


The Lady Initiate

by hermitknut



Series: Queen Rider [2]
Category: Green Rider Series - Kristen Britain
Genre: Engagement, F/F, F/M, everything gets complicated, fixit fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermitknut/pseuds/hermitknut
Summary: Rider Sir Karigan G'ladheon is officially being courted by the King of Sacoridia. It's all very romantic. The problem is, she's also a Green Rider. And a Swordmaster Initiate in training. And a merchant's daughter. Between training, studying, message-bearing, and scrambling for social position, can she find the time to be herself? And when sinister plans are set in motion, can she get through her engagement unscathed?





	1. More than Half

Karigan lay in bed, unmoving, gazing up at the ceiling. Images from last night’s party flickered through her mind: the procession of Green Riders into the hall, the flicker of black as the Weapons flanked her, the staring faces of nobility and merchants alike, King Zachary bowing slightly over her hand before escorting her to dance, his hand on the small of her back…

Like something out of a fairy tale, or a dream. But it was real, very real, and – Karigan stifled a groan – she was going to be very late for training with Drent if she didn’t get up _right now_.

Steeling herself, she swung herself out of bed and forced herself not to shiver at the cold. It would be much colder out on the training ground at this time of the morning, best to start adjusting to it now.

After dressing hurriedly, Rider Sir G’ladheon, future Queen of Sacoridia, set off down the corridor tying her hair back as she went and trying to ignore the solitary Weapon trailing a step or two behind her.

~

‘Excuse me, Rider; could you tell me where I might find Rider Sir G’ladheon?’

Mara stopped, surprised. The servant had a L’Petrie accent and a very polite manner, and was carrying a small envelope.

‘She’s at training,’ she answered. ‘So out on the grounds, but Drent won’t have interruptions – do you have a message to pass on?’

The servant looked slightly displeased.

‘I was told to hand it directly to her,’ he said. Mara raised her eyebrows.

‘Then I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until she’s available. She should be back in the barracks in about two hours.’ She watched his brow crease further, and took pity.

‘Look, unless it’s confidential, what is it? Maybe I can help?’

The servant appeared to consider this for a moment, and then conceded.

‘She is invited to lunch with Lady Degrey,’ he said, ‘and a number of that lady’s friends.’

Mara stared at him, and was then suddenly overcome with a desire to laugh. Of course – Karigan was the future queen. Commoner or not, people would be attempting to curry favour or build a connection or even just get a good look at her.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘in that case you should perhaps leave it with me. As a king’s messenger it’s my responsibility; I’ll ensure that she gets it as soon as possible.’

Another moment of consideration, and then the servant handed her the little envelope before thanking her and heading back off down the corridor.

Mara shook her head as she examined the pretty, gilt-embossed envelope. She pictured Karigan’s expression, her reaction when she found out that she’d been invited… but she would be expecting this, wouldn’t she? Mara frowned. Now that she thought about it, wasn’t that strange? Karigan usually hated the fuss and arrogance of the nobility, but she was going to be _queen_ ; there’d be no getting away from it.

She chewed on her lip as she continued on her way, tapping the envelope absently against the side of her leg. The more she thought about it, the more this whole thing seemed strange. Karigan G’ladheon, queen? Putting herself in the centre of fawning nobility, choosing a life of luxury… well, she had grown up in a wealthy household, so perhaps that wasn’t the strange part. And last night – well, she had been nervous, and understandably so, but there had been happiness there too. No, not happiness – joy. Even under the nerves, she’d looked pleased.

It was a puzzle, and one that Mara would not be able to figure out until she spent some time with her friend. And in the meantime there was work to do. Mara set the problem aside and turned her mind to the day’s tasks.

~

‘Our overall, early conclusions look positive, sire,’ said Colin as Zachary took his seat at the council table and the others took theirs. Zachary nodded.

‘I know Hillander’s behind the match,’ he said. ‘Do we have confirmation on any of the others?’ He knew some of the answers to this, but it was always better to hear the opinions of his councillors; there were many things that no one would say to the king’s face or in his earshot, but his advisors were less noticeable.

Colin nodded.

‘We’re reasonably confidant in the Eastern lords,’ he began. ‘So that’s Coutre, Bairdly, and Arey in support. Hillander, of course. Lords D’Yer and L’Petrie have also expressed their support, along with their warm wishes.’

‘The Eastern lords are following Coutre, and he’s following Estora,’ said Laren. ‘Lord Leonar trusts your judgment and is basing his support on that; Lord D’Yer has a high opinion of Karigan from Lord Alton; and Lord L’Petrie feels that as Karigan is from his province this marriage will raise his prospects, even though she isn’t nobility.’

Zachary nodded again. This was as they had predicted, though the Eastern lords seemed surer than anticipated.

‘Penburn and Adolind also appear to be in favour, though more cautiously. I suspect Adolind is hoping to form a better relationship with L’Petrie and perhaps Clan G’ladheon in order to improve the finances of his province; Lord Penburn’s reasons, however…’

‘May have to do with Karigan’s position in the delegation,’ Laren provided. ‘The new Lord Penburn was rather impressed with her courage.’

The councillors considered this duly. The delegation that Lady Penburn had headed up had come to a devastating end, but Rider Sir G’ladheon had indeed demonstrated much of her character.

‘That’s eight out of the twelve,’ Zachary said, drawing them all back to the present. ‘What about the others?’

Colin sighed.

‘Wayman and Oldbury are holding neutral for now; Lord Wayman was offering some criticisms of Rider Sir G’ladheon last night but they seemed more of a testing of the waters than outright disagreement. He looked rather thoughtful after Lord Alton’s stalwart defence of her.’

Zachary held back a smile.

‘And D’lvary and Mirwell are against the idea, though all they’ve done so far is mutter about it,’ Laren concluded. ‘We were expecting that; you probably wouldn’t get their support regardless of who you chose at the moment. They’re too unhappy with previous crown decisions.’

Exile in one case and execution in the other, Zachary thought, his urge to smile fading away. Something would have to be done to bring those two provinces back into unity. What it would be, he didn’t yet know.

‘All in all, that’s a very positive start,’ Colin said. ‘We don’t know how long they’ll remain as they are, of course – but it’s easier to keep them onside than win them over.’

Practiced from long years of council meetings, Zachary kept track of the conversation as his councillors discussed the possible movements of the Province Lords, while allowing a small part of his mind to wander. She’d already be up, of course; training with Drent, probably. He’d have to make sure he spoke to her today – or perhaps it would be best to leave it to Laren to keep her updated? Or send her a message via her father? Zachary was, of necessity, an expert in formal social graces; but this situation was somewhat unusual. And one misstep at this stage could be devastating…

He made a mental note to raise the communication issue later in the meeting, and turned his full attention back to the discussion.

~

‘What am I supposed to do with them?’

Karigan’s expression was so dismayed that Laren struggled with her urge to laugh for a moment. Forcing herself to stay serious, she leant back in her chair.

‘You were expecting this,’ she reminded her. ‘It was discussed. You need to look through them – preferably with some input from myself, Colin, or Zachary – and decide which ones to accept and which ones to decline. You’ve got an inbuilt excuse for declining – training and Green Rider duties. So that shouldn’t be difficult. Now we just need to look through and work out which ones you should accept.’

This took some time to do; Karigan seemed to be doing her best to memorise names and reasons for acceptance or avoidance, and Laren talked her through the pros and cons of each case. Despite Karigan’s surface-level dismay, Laren felt confident by the end of their discussion that Karigan would be able to make more educated decisions next time. She was a fast learner with a good memory; she just needed a little more confidence. And that would come with time.

~

After lunch, Karigan was in her room in the barracks, adjusting the dress that had been sent down from her family’s quarters and trying nervously to do something appropriate with her hair. She was expected to meet with a small number of ladies for afternoon tea – fortunately, the invitation was Lady Estora’s. Karigan knew that Estora would try not to put her in a difficult position and was in fact very talented at keeping events like this running smoothly, but this didn’t stop her being nervous. She wondered if Zachary had ever felt like this about social events. Probably not, she decided; he’d grown up in this environment, it probably felt entirely natural to him.

The thing was, she thought, checking her appearance in the mirror, to treat it as a learning experience. It couldn’t go _too_ badly wrong. Estora probably wouldn’t allow it. And it was only afternoon tea. The best thing to do would be to stay calm, stay reserved but polite – she recalled with gratitude Zachary’s suggestion of cultivating the reputation of being an excellent listener – and watch and learn.

It felt as though the ground was shifting steadily under her feet. Everything was changing. Well, she thought, remembering that morning’s training, not everything…

Drent’s expression had made it clear he didn’t intend to change how he treated her, but Karigan hadn’t expected him to. She’d seen how he’d treated Zachary in training. Somehow it was reassuring rather than intimidating; everything in her life was going to change, but Drent would remain the same. She suppressed a small laugh at the thought of telling him this.

Finally she was as satisfied as she felt she was going to be, so she headed out of her room and towards Lady Estora’s quarters, worry fighting for balance with determination.

~

Estora made sure to give Karigan a warm smile when she came in, and before she moved them through to join the other ladies put a hand on her arm.

‘Karigan,’ she said, ‘I know I made this clear before, but I want you to know that I am entirely behind you on this, all right? And father is, too. Congratulations.’

She watched Karigan’s expression, which had been rather guarded, flood with gratitude.

‘Thank you,’ she said earnestly. Estora smiled more, and then took Karigan through to join the others.

It was funny, she thought as the discussion washed over her; she really didn’t feel jealous at all. She had almost expected herself too – not because she regretted walking out of her engagement with Zachary, but because she felt sad that she couldn’t have been happy with it. And Karigan… Karigan was happy about this. That much was clear, even though she was also obviously rather nervous. Lady Estora kept careful track of the conversation. She had exercised her court experience to pick a small group of ladies she felt might me more inclined to support Karigan – who would now need serious allies at court, and there was no time like the present.

Lady Triss was genuinely kind-hearted, and Estora knew her to be genial with servants and quite happy to mingle with the merchant classes. Lady Sivan and Lady Camri had ties to Lord L’Petrie, who had already made very clear that he intended to support the match. And Lady Molan had both D’Yers and Hillanders in her family tree, though she was neither herself strictly speaking. All had been flattered by Lady Estora’s invitation, and she was confident that none of them were likely to sink to backhanded behaviour provided they liked someone. And she was confident they would like Karigan – _even_ , she thought somewhat grimly to herself _, if I have to convince them myself._


	2. Three Places at Once

_Dear Estral,_

_Of course, why am I not surprised you knew about this before it was formally announced! I assume this was what you were referring to when you said that you felt times were changing, though I don’t know that you’re right about how much of an influence my little stand made._

_As to how Karigan is… well, the announcement was only about four days ago. She appears to be doing quite well; she’s keeping a very reserved position, which I think is quite wise, and I’ve been trying to build support with her among my own friends here. King Zachary is clearly completely smitten with her; I can’t think how I never saw it before! I don’t dare say anything to anyone lest they get the impression I’m accusing him of infidelity, but I suspect he had feelings for her long before I broke our engagement – it makes a lot of sense._

_Anyway, back to Karigan. The Merchants’ Ball itself was a lovely occasion, and I think they chose well to have the Green Riders attend. I had a wonderful conversation with a mixed group of merchants and riders and nobility; I also was rather delighted to finally meet Karigan’s aunts, as well as seeing her father again. I think you’d get along with her aunts; they were very formal and polite but they all seem to have the same absolute nerve as Karigan does._

_Karigan herself looked stunning – the dress was beautiful! – and she and King Zachary danced together in front of everyone. There’s been some dissent, of course – D’lvary and Mirwell aren’t happy and some of the others are holding neutral, and there’s a healthy dose of gossip going around – but father has decided to support her. I suspect because of me, and I am eternally grateful. If Karigan and Zachary can succeed, I feel that opportunities for everyone will open up. Arey and Bairdly are of course following father, and I think D’Yer and Hillander are in support too. I’m not sure of the others._

_I assume you’ll be invited for the wedding? We’re not staying in Sacor City very long – just the next week, and then we’re going back to Coutre for the winter. I know you won’t probably be able to visit, but I would love to see you if you have the opportunity. If not, I suppose I’ll next see you at the wedding – it doesn’t have a fixed date yet, but I’ve heard they’re aiming for the end of spring._

_Don’t work too hard! And good luck with that class, it sounds like a difficult one. I hope to see you as soon as possible; and in the meantime, good luck with your gentlemen friend. He sounds charming, you have all the luck._

_Love,_

_Estora_

~

Karigan had been imagining many different ways that the aftermath of the Merchant’s Ball could go, but she had not accounted for what actually happened. The next week passed in a blur. So did the one after it. And the one after that.

She was up before dawn most days, to fit in training with Drent – he seemed to become more demanding with every session, as though he was determined that a queen-to-be should be held to a higher standard than a mere Rider. Then she raced back to the barracks, by which point she would already have received a handful of invitations, which she sorted through as quickly as possible, usually while trying to change into a clean uniform at the same time. Then along to the office, to go over the Rider accounts work with Mara, four or five hours worth of work that often had to be rushed through in two or three before she was back in her room, getting into a formal dress for whatever lunch or tea or dance she was invited to. Slotted into her afternoon would also often be joining the king for some meeting or other, where she sat by his side and tried to take in what was going on. Then dinner – sometimes with her family, sometimes with King Zachary and her family, sometimes with other members of the nobility, but never on her own – then sometimes dancing until late but if not then traipsing back to the barracks, getting out of her dress and into something more comfortable for a few hours of going over notes from attending on the king, her own notes on different members of the nobility, or the Rider accounts.

It wasn’t long before she felt as though she was barely keeping up. But by that point she had hardly any energy to spare to think about it. She forced herself through training, relying heavily on her former drilling, enduring rebukes from Drent by listening more to the slow thumping of ever-more frequent headaches. She threw herself straight into the Rider accounts without any other thoughts, just glad for the warmth of the barracks after the hours of training. Social events were a haze of smiles and polite conversation and practising her listening skills – but she barely remembered them after they were done. Official meetings weren’t much better; she felt slow and stupid as Zachary spoke, and worried that she would never be able to catch on to all of the detail required to run the keep, let alone the intricacies of court politics.

Dinner she looked forward to, usually, particularly with her family, but it wasn’t really a restful time – conversation was lively, she needed to keep up, and she didn’t want them to worry about her.

Of course, if she hadn’t been so tired, she would have realised that it couldn’t continue for long – at least, not without something going wrong.

~

Karigan was nearly finished with a regular training session with Drent when she found herself seeing black spots. Before she could call out to stop the practice fight, her partner swung, and she didn’t block in time. There was a dull thud, and a soft, unpleasant snap. When her vision cleared, the world was sideways, and it had a pair of boots in it. She frowned. And then the pain hit.

‘Come on, G’ladheon! You know better than that! How you’ve got through this amount of training still able to make a stupid mistake like that –’

Ignoring Drent, Karigan very carefully sat herself up. The pain wasn’t really so bad, was it? No, no it wasn’t. It was fine. Probably just bad bruising. Maybe a sprain. Inconvenient, but not a huge problem.

One arm wrapped around her chest, she got to her knees, and then to her feet. She felt very fuzzy-headed, but made out that Drent was dismissing her, so went through the motions of returning her training weaponry to the store and trudged through the soft rain back to the barracks.

In her room, she winced as she peeled off her wet uniform. In the glass the bruises were just blossoming on her skin. She turned away, and flicked through her invitations for the day. There was one mid-morning that she shouldn’t miss. Gingerly, she started to get herself into a dress, and then stopped – it was too painful to twist and turn about. Gritting her teeth, she pulled on her old coat so that she was at least half-way decent and then stuck her head out of the door. Fergal, thankfully, was in the corridor.

‘Hey, Fergal, is Tegan about? I need a favour.’

Fergal nodded.

‘She’s in with Mara, I’ll send her your way,’ he said, already heading down the corridor.

‘Thank you!’ Karigan called after him, and then slipped back into her room. The other Riders had been extremely helpful with her hectic schedule, so she knew Tegan wouldn’t mind. It was only a few minutes before the other Rider arrived.

‘Dress help?’ Tegan asked with a grin – but her expression dropped to worry as she began to help Karigan into the formalwear.

‘Karigan, that looks pretty bad,’ she said, nodding to the black and purple marks forming across Karigan’s side. Karigan made a grumpy noise.

‘Drent and training at ridiculous times of the morning,’ she said. ‘I just missed a block, that’s all. It’s fine, just sore.’

Tegan nodded, but she still looked a little concerned, and Karigan didn’t have the energy to try and ease her worries. Nor did she have the time.

‘Done?’ she asked, inspecting herself critically in the mirror. Tegan looked her over.

‘You look fine,’ she said. ‘As usual. Who are you going to see?’

‘Lady Triss,’ Karigan said. ‘And some of the older ladies, they only arrived this morning. So I can’t really ignore them.’

‘Shame.’

Karigan gave Tegan a brief smile.

‘Thanks, Tegan. Will you tell Mara I’ll try to get to the Rider accounts later? I should have some time before dinner.’

‘Will do.’

~

There was, thankfully, no training the next day. But by the time she got to half-way through that the following afternoon, she was trying to move as little as possible. It was taking a great deal of effort to concentrate fully on the words of whoever was speaking to her – and to much effort when they weren’t speaking to her directly, which meant she missed most of the content of the afternoon’s counsel meeting. Dinner that night was late – there was to be an evening of dance, with the food served throughout – and so by the time she was being laced into her evening gown, she felt very light-headed. Nevertheless, she made her way up to the hall.

The food was delightful; and as for the dancing, Karigan managed to mostly avoid by getting herself caught in conversation, but she knew she couldn’t do that for the entire evening. She danced three times with the king, and worked hard to make sure no one could see any pain in her expression. _Tomorrow_ , she thought. _Tomorrow I’ll go and find a mender._ She had meant to do it that day, but there simply hadn’t been any time – without the need to be up for training she had hoped to use the time to get some work done, but she’d ended up staring fuzzily at the accounts and barely making sense of them.

The party ended not long before midnight, and Karigan said her goodnights before slipping away down to the barracks again. If she could just get some sleep and a little time… yes, that was really all she needed.

Hurrying to get to her room, however, her exhaustion made her clumsy. She stepped badly on one foot, couldn’t regain her balance, twisted as she fell – and the world went black.


	3. The Mender's Rebuke

It had already been a long morning, and it had only been in progress for two hours. Laren fought back a yawn, and forced herself to concentrate on the papers in front of her. Karigan was due at this council meeting, as an observer. Laren had been meaning to fit in some time with her to see how she was adjusting, but with this many visitors in the keep everyone was absurdly busy and she just hadn’t had time.

There was a knock on the door, and then a Weapon stepped inside.

‘Chief Mender Valenna to see you, sire.’

Zachary frowned.

‘Well, as we’re waiting for Karigan,’ he said, almost to himself, and then louder, ‘I’ll see her, show her in.’

Laren shifted in her seat to see Valenna enter. The Chief Mender was relatively new to the position, Destarion having had to resign the previous month due to family problems. But she had been a Master Mender at Selium, and had an excellent reputation. This morning, however, she appeared to be nothing short of _furious_. She gave Zachary a perfunctory bow.

‘What can I help you with, Chief Mender?’ Zachary asked, watching her carefully. He had chosen to respond to her obvious anger with attentiveness and a tone of concern.

‘It’s really a simple matter of scheduling, sire, but it cannot be excused; I might think that either you or your staff have no regard for the basic needs of those who serve you and I dislike thinking that at all, but really it’s entirely unreasonable to expect –’

Zachary held up a hand to stop her.

‘Mender Valenna, I am sorry to interrupt,’ he said gently, leaning forward slightly, ‘but you seem to have started somewhere in the middle? I would be glad to offer any assistance you need but if you could, perhaps, begin from the heart of the matter?’

The Chief Mender appeared to compose herself somewhat, and began again.

‘My apologies,’ she said, still clearly full of temper. ‘But if more consideration of actual, sensible human limits was put into the creation of scheduling in the keep, it is reasonable to assume that I would not have had to admit Rider Sir G’ladheon to my Mending Ward at gone midnight last night.’

At the mention of Karigan’s name, Zachary had come abruptly to his feet; Laren, Colin and Sperren were only a little behind him. The king’s face was pale.

‘Karigan’s hurt? What happened, why wasn’t I informed?’

This time it was Valenna who raised a calming hand.

‘Rider Sir G’ladheon sustained an injury in training the day before yesterday,’ she said, somewhat formally, and Laren could hear the disapproval in her words. ‘However, she did not seek any assistance. Instead, she carried on with her duties, causing significant complications to the injury, until late last night she collapsed in the barracks corridor and had to be stretchered to the mending ward.’

The impact of this seemed to shake Zachary; Laren resisted the urge to put a reassuring hand on his arm.

‘How serious is it?’ he asked.

‘Three fractured ribs,’ Valenna said disapprovingly. ‘But she’ll heal just fine. The exhaustion and the fact that the injury went unreported are, in my opinion, a greater cause for concern.’ She shifted on her feet, and Laren sensed that they were in for the fullness of the Chief Mender’s anger.

‘Now, the lady herself bears a large portion of responsibility for not reporting her injury,’ Valenna began, ‘however. Having heard from Riders Brennan and Oldbrine about her schedule and the demands on her, quite frankly I can’t see when she would have had the time, or the motivation, to speak to a mender. Between training, Green Rider work, and political socialising, she is expected to do the duties of three people with the time and energy of one, and no one seems to have taken any reasonable limitations into consideration.’

Laren flicked through her recent memories of Karigan, always brief encounters or at meetings of much larger groups of people, and realised how often Karigan had seemed distracted or tired. But Valenna was not finished.

‘Additionally, she may have chosen to refrain from reporting her injury and seeking treatment, but there is no way she should have been able to get away with it. Firstly, her Arms Master should be taking more care – he shouldn’t have let her walk out of training with that injury without an instruction to see a mender, much less expected her to participate in other sessions after the injury. Secondly, her Captain, who is responsible for her and I believe encounters her several times a day, should be attentive enough to the needs of her Riders to have caught the problem; and thirdly, even if those two proved too demanding of people who have many other people to be aware of, I would expect her state to be relatively obvious to the man she was dancing with last night.’

He hid it well, but Laren had known Zachary for a long time and he could see how hard the words had hit him. She herself felt a trickle of shame down her spine. Karigan was perfectly capable of looking after herself, of course, but Valenna was right – this still shouldn’t have happened. She herself had noticed Karigan looking tired but not investigated, even knowing that Karigan had a tendency to push herself too hard and not rest enough. And as for Drent… Laren felt a considerable amount of anger boiling up. Teaching your students how to tough their way through a dangerous situation was one thing. Encouraging them to train when they were clearly injured and not holding them accountable was another. The attitude in Drent’s training was so whole-heartedly opposed to any kind of ‘coddling’ he ran the risk of not providing reasonable and adequate care.

She turned her attention back to Zachary, who was standing as still as stone, concern and guilt written across his expression.

‘May I see her?’ he asked quietly.

Chief Mender Valenna pursed her lips.

‘Not today, sire. I think it would be appropriate for you to visit if you wish in three or four days time; in the meantime, I will only be admitting her family.’

Zachary gave a short, tight nod.

‘Of course.’

There was a long silence, until finally Zachary spoke again, having regained some of his composure.

‘Is there anything further we can do for you, Chief Mender?’

Chief Mender Valenna considered the matter for moment, and then gave him a grim smile.

‘Could you tell me where I might find Armsmaster Drent at this time of the morning?’

~

Several days later, Zachary was finally permitted to visit Karigan in the mending ward. Valenna had insisted she stay there rather than returning to the barracks, not because her injury was particularly serious, but because the mending ward was quieter and “more conducive to a restful recovery”. Karigan had been too tired to argue then, and still was. Her exhaustion was taking longer to shake off than she had expected, and she had been forced to acknowledge just how far she had managed to push herself – despite being home and safe rather than out on a message run.

And all of this had led to a clear morning in her room on the ward, the sunlight shining through the window, and King Zachary sitting in the visitor’s chair with Captain Mapstone chaperoning them from the end of the bed.

‘How are you feeling?’ Zachary asked.

Karigan gave a little half-smile.

‘Better,’ she said. ‘Ben’s a wonder. But not fantastic.’ She sighed, and then caught the expression on Zachary’s face. ‘I’ll be alright. Don’t look so guilty, you’re not helping anyone like that.’

The words slipped out of her mouth before she could think them through properly; time spent with her aunts was a heavy influence. She widened her eyes slightly and closed her mouth. Zachary looked startled, but Captain Mapstone chuckled.

‘She’s right, you know,’ she said, sounding amused. Zachary gave a concessionary nod, now looking somewhat sheepish.

‘We’ve been talking about your schedule,’ he said, segueing with slightly less grace than usual. ‘It really is unreasonable of us to expect you to handle effectively being three people at once. So, we have a few suggestions – you don’t need to make any decisions right now, we just wanted you to be able to think about it.’

His expression grew concerned again, and Karigan gave him a faintly reassuring smile. She knew she must look terrible.

‘What are the suggestions?’ she asked, to keep the conversation moving.

Zachary launched gratefully into explanations.

‘You’re handling at least as many social engagements as I am, only without a secretary, so Cummings is going to start managing your schedule for you – if people wish to spend time with you, they’ll go to your family, which should slow things down, and your family in turn will speak to you and keep Cummings informed. He’ll be able to make sure that you don’t get overrun. Your aunts have also – rightfully, I think – insisted on finding you a maidservant. Technically she’ll be hired by your family for you, but if it’s acceptable to you she’ll also be put through the security checks for working in the palace, and if she and you are a good fit she’ll remain your maidservant when you become queen.’ He took a breath, and continued. ‘Captain Mapstone is also going to arrange a slight lessening of your duties – once you’re back on them, of course – and have you teach your replacement. That will hopefully dovetail with you attending some more of my meetings, with me. Your father suggested making it a general rule that the mornings are your time for training and Green Rider work, and your afternoons are for socialising and meetings with the nobility.’

He sighed and sat back in his chair.

‘I know it sounds like we’ve planned everything out without your input, but those are only suggestions,’ he said, watching her expression. ‘Would you think about them? If you’d rather something different, that’s perfectly fine – it’s entirely your decision, whatever you feel is most convenient for you.’

Karigan said nothing for a few minutes, turning the ideas over and over in her mind. They seemed perfectly sensible. So why was she hesitating? She examined her emotions. Nervousness; worry; reticence… oh. Yes. The trappings of nobility – not that they were much different than those of a wealthy merchant’s daughter, really. It just felt different because she knew where she was headed. She breathed out through her nose, then nodded.

‘That all sounds fine,’ she said. Despite herself, she struggled to hold back a yawn. Zachary rose from his seat at once.

‘We’re keeping you from your rest,’ he said apologetically. ‘We’ll leave you be.’ Karigan managed a wan smile in return. She really was tired.

‘Thank you for coming to see me,’ she said quietly. Zachary paused at the door and turned back.

‘Always a pleasure,’ he said, with a small but genuine smile. Then he inclined his head slightly. ‘Good day, Rider Sir G’ladheon.’

Captain Mapstone followed him out, giving Karigan an approving nod as she did so. When they’d left, Karigan sighed – but carefully, so as not to aggravate her still-tender ribs. More things to think about, more things to change. Well, perhaps this would make things easier.


	4. Attitudes and Attire

Karigan’s recovery went smoothly – in fact, it was fairly dull. She lingered in the Mending Ward for some time, mostly sleeping or reading and trying not to be frustrated. It felt as though her entire life had just stopped and despite her tiredness she was longing for it to get going again. She also found that, despite not being overly fond of the constant socialising before her injury, she missed the regular interaction and kept thinking of Zachary at social events without her. She told herself firmly that she was _not_ jealous (of anyone he spent time with, that was ridiculous) and mostly believed it.

Finally she was released from the ward and was able to return back to her barracks room and something of a normal schedule – though it was deliberately more restful than it had been. And there was another new addition to her life, on her first day out of the ward, delivered by her Aunt Gretta.

‘Karigan, this is Lia. She’s the same age as you, and she’s from the Sacor City itself.’

Lia was a nervous looking woman who did indeed appear to be around Karigan’s age; she was plump and tidy and gave Karigan a hesitant smile when they met eyes. Karigan smiled back uncertainly.

‘She’s been hired as your maid, and…’ Gretta pursed her lips slightly before continuing, ‘if the two of you get along, she’ll follow you into the royal household when the time comes. She starts today, and we’ll organise her pay. Understood?’

‘Yes Aunt Gretta, thank you,’ Karigan said, as she and Lia still eyed each other curiously.

Well, this would certainly be interesting.

~

_Dear Karigan,_

_Trust you to get yourself injured so dramatically! Honestly, you’re born for songs you know. All joking aside, I hope it’s not too bad and that they’re fixing you up well. At least it might give you a break from the nobility!_

_I’m not going to be able to come and visit until the wedding, I’m afraid – is the date set yet, do you know? – but I do intend to write extremely persistently. Make sure you write to Estora, too; she keeps asking me about you and I can hardly tell her much more than she already knows. Alton too, he’s just as bad._

_Life here continues more or less as usual. I’ve been trying to work out how to visit D’Yer or Coutre province, but it’s just not manageable on my schedule at the moment. However, a stroke of luck – it turns out that Alton might be making it up to Selium, to look through texts about the origins of the D’Yer wall. It’s not likely we have anything they don’t have, but he doesn’t want to leave a stone unturned. If all goes well, he might even be staying at the house – though I’ll have to find some sort of very inattentive chaperone, for the sake of appearances. Oh, I’ll be a wonderful chaperone as an old woman, don’t you think? If anyone accuses me of letting things slip by, I’ve the excuse of my ear!_

_Teaching gets better the more I do it, though it’s still exhausting and eats up most of my time. I’m trying to wrangle my schedule so as to have a little more time for composing. Was thinking of writing a song for the wedding – don’t worry, nothing specifically about you, just something… oh, romantic, about overcoming adversity. What do you think? It’s certainly the most personal wedding present I can think of. Perhaps father and I will work on something together._

_Write back soon – I want to hear all about your continued escapades with the nobility, and if you have any other exciting news to pass on make sure you don’t forget it. We never seem to hear anything interesting over here! And write to Alton and Estral._

_I’ll stop sounding like such an old maid, now – best of luck, and I hope your healing goes well._

_All my very best,_

_Estral_

~

Her first social event after her return was in the evening; a smaller party of more local nobility. Lia helped her get ready, and two of her aunts joined her in the barracks to walk up to the party’s location nearer the centre of the keep.

Zachary caught her eye and smiled when Karigan entered, and she inclined her head in response. But her attention was quickly caught by Lady Triss, who greeted her enthusiastically.

‘Rider Sir G’ladheon, it’s so good to see you’re able to rejoin us,’ she said. ‘We’ve missed you. Though I imagine it has been restful for you – you must have such a hectic schedule!’

Karigan couldn’t help but smile. Lady Triss was always so cheerful. Karigan supposed it was her method of coping with the disconcertingly vicious court politics. The woman practically exuded good-naturedness. And then Karigan realised what she was wearing. She opened her mouth, but it was a second or two before she found the right words.

‘I – your dress, it’s… lovely,’ she said. Lady Triss met her eyes, and Karigan saw something both kind and shrewd in her expression.

‘Thank you, that’s very kind! It’s a little old-fashioned, but it felt like the night to revive it.’

Lady Triss kept up a light chatter as she led Karigan into the nearest group of mixed nobility; Karigan was grateful for that, because she just needed to look attentive and smile at the right moments. Which also meant that she could observe the party a little more closely…

Lady Triss. Lady Evanya. Lady Corilli. Three others over by the fireplace; the stately Lady Kerth, who was the only older woman Karigan could see who had joined in with Lady Triss’s ‘revival’. All of them had eschewed the current fashion for a tight, restrictive corset, in favour of an older style that was looser and softer on the chest. The style, in fact, that Karigan had to wear while her ribs healed.

Karigan felt the shock pooling like cool water in her chest. Court politics she’d expected; backstabbing, and people who were cruel in the most charming ways, and casual condescension. And the inverse, of course, as her position solidified: pandering and toadying, entirely surface-level appeasement, baseless compliments. But this… this was _kindness_. Was it genuine? She thought it might be, though a part of her held back from certainty, just in case. Lady Triss, or perhaps one of the others, had deduced that she wouldn’t be able to dress fashionably this evening, and would therefore stick out like a sore thumb. And – together? Led by one person? – they had decided to ease the situation. Some of the ladies involved were only in Sacor City temporarily; Karigan wondered if they really had brought their outdated dresses with them originally, or if they had borrowed or had new ones made for the occasion.

She wondered if she should say something. Perhaps it would be uncouth to draw attention to their subtle kindness; but then, if she said nothing, would they assume that she wasn’t grateful?

In the end she didn’t have to worry too much about it; Lady Triss met her again, and accepted her quiet, emphatic _thank you_ with a smile and a spark in her eye.

‘We’re not all appalling, Rider Sir G’ladheon,’ she said. ‘Though we do a good impression of it.’

And that was that.

The little party was pleasant, calm, and Karigan very much enjoyed being back in the company of other people – so much that she surprised herself. It was particularly good to get some time to talk to Zachary – not alone, exactly, as they were in a room with around thirty other people, but sitting a little apart from the others, the two of them. Gently, the conversation turned to tasks and plans for the week.

‘Do you have your schedule for next week yet?’ Zachary asked. Karigan shook her head.

‘I should get it tomorrow. Why, is something exciting happening?’

Zachary shrugged.

‘Depends how you define exciting, I suppose. Not a particularly exciting thing to do as such, but… well. A significant moment? You have an appointment with Darian.’

‘I don’t know who Darian is,’ Karigan said honestly. Zachary smiled.

‘Darian is the Royal Smith.’

Karigan frowned.

‘Elgian is the Royal Smith,’ she said slowly.

‘Ah. Minor distinction. Elgian is the _Palace_ Smith. Darian is the Royal Smith.’

Karigan raised her eyebrows.

‘All right,’ she said, leaning back slightly in her armchair. ‘What’s the difference?’

Zachary grinned again, and Karigan could tell he was enjoying this a little – not out of condescension but of a genuine desire to share information.

‘Elgian, as Palace Smith, has a smithy on the ground of the keep; well, a little hive of smithies, actually,  responsible for all day to day metalwork – from keys and locks and bars and hinges to the armoury and the horse metal.’ He paused a moment to formulate his explanation, and then continued. ‘Darian owns a smithy in the town that does some of those things; however Darian herself is a silversmith, and a jeweller. Her smithy, which has been passed down from Master to Apprentice, has been the Royal Smithy for around the last nine hundred years. And next week,’ here he couldn’t quite hold back a wider smile, ‘she will come to, ah, measure your head.’

Karigan’s eyes widened.

‘I thought…’ she said slowly. ‘Well, I thought that crowns sort of – already existed?’

Zachary nodded.

‘That’s the general assumption. And in a sense they do, but in another sense they don’t.’ He glanced around at the general hubbub. Everyone seemed invested in their own conversations and not likely to interrupt them.

‘How do you feel about learning about crowns?’ he said, his tone light. Karigan grinned back at him, and settled in her chair.

‘Teach me,’ she said.

Zachary got himself more comfortable, and then began to talk.

‘So, a question to begin with: how many crowns do you think I have?’

Karigan narrowed her eyes.

‘I would have said one, but now that you’re asking that… I’ll say two,’ she said.

‘Six, actually.’

Karigan raised her eyebrows again.

‘A tad excessive,’ she said lightly, biting back a smile. Zachary conceded to this with a shrug.

‘Royalty,’ he said jokingly, and she laughed.

‘All right, why do you have six crowns?’

Zachary smiled.

‘Well, only three of them are royal crowns; the other three are gifts.’

‘Gifts?’

Karigan watched his expression; surprisingly, he looked as though he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes.

‘Well, when you have international visits – the big, formal affairs – it’s traditional to bring gifts. Of course, what gift can you give a monarch that he or she doesn’t already have?’ He shrugged. ‘Crowns, are apparently the conclusion. It’s a symbolic way of saying that they respect your authority. Personally,’ he lowered his voice a little, ‘I find it a little ridiculous, but I can’t do very much about it.’

Karigan grinned.

‘Okay, three don’t count, then. What about the other three?’

‘Well, there are two of these,’ Zachary said, indicating the silver fillet on his head. ‘That’s because I wear it very frequently – it’s at risk for bumps and scratches and minor damage, and the last thing you need is to be awkwardly crownless for a few days while they repair it.’

Karigan nodded.

‘These crowns are made for each monarch to fit their head, based on a design that dates back to the start of Hillander rule,’ Zachary continued. ‘The design is actually like the design of coin – it’s illegal to try and replicate it directly. And supposedly after each monarch or monarch-consort dies, their fillet is melted down and the silver reused to create the next one, though I suspect there are some practical aspects to the matter that make that, at most, only partly true.’

‘So…’ Karigan said, ‘Darian will make me two of those?’

‘Yes – the design for the consort is slightly different, but they’re basically the same.’

‘And the last crown?’

Zachary leaned back in his chair.

‘Ah, the formal crowns of Sacoridia. They’re the ones everyone draws in the storybooks,’ he said with a smile. ‘There are four: Queen, King, Queen-Consort, King-Consort. They live in the vaults, and aside from when we run security checks on the vaults, I have seen them a grand total of… twice.’

Karigan raised her eyebrows, and Zachary explained.

‘They’re very heavy, very ornate, and very uncomfortable,’ he said. ‘And of course, very valuable. They’re only really used for coronations. The rest of the time they’re kept locked away. You’ll get some time to practice with a mock one that’s the same weight, because you’ll be crowned with the Queen-Consort’s one, but you only have to wear it for… oh, I suppose less than half an hour? Maybe a quarter of an hour at most.’

‘That’s a relief,’ Karigan said, already thinking about heavy metal and an aching neck.

‘Mm.’

She met Zachary’s eyes and could see a kind of warm speculation in them. She fought the urge to blush and look away, knowing that she had thought of him in much the same tone many times.

Of course, they were quickly interrupted by a conversation between Karigan’s Aunt Gretta and Lady Kerth about cloth trading, and that was the last time that the two of them were left alone together for the evening. But Karigan still left the event feeling buoyed up, and more comfortable than she had been before.


	5. Hillander Silver

‘Sire, we checked the schedule and saw you might have a few free minutes to discuss the matter of Lord Bairdly’s request? It would be helpful to run through it before the meeting later today.’

Zachary winced.

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Perhaps in a short while? I’m afraid there’s… well, the schedule isn’t quite accurate, I’m actually meeting with –’

There was a knock on the door.

‘My lord, Smith Darian has arrived.’

Laren frowned. Zachary winced again.

‘Come in,’ he said. The door swung open, and Darian entered. She raised an eyebrow, looking from Laren and Colin to Zachary.

‘Darian, welcome,’ Zachary said. ‘Apologies, there’s been some scheduling… confusion. You’re right on time, do come in and make yourself comfortable.’

Darian gave her customary bow and took a seat, still looking with interest at the uncertain councillors.

‘Sire, should I fetch Rider Sir G’ladheon?’ Laren asked. ‘She’ll have the same schedule error, she won’t arrive for another half an hour…’

But Zachary shook his head.

‘No, not an error. I, ah. Well.’ He licked his lips and seemed to be thinking of how to phrase his explanation, when Darian suddenly grinned.

‘Birthday or engagement?’ she asked abruptly. Zachary stared at her, and she gave a short laugh.

‘The present you want to give her, is it for her birthday or for the engagement?’ she clarified. Zachary’s mouth dropped open.

‘How did you know…’ he faded off, and she grinned at him again.

‘I’m a silversmith, sire.’ She shrugged. ‘One half of a couple gets me on my own without telling the other, it’s usually because they want to surprise them.’

After a moment, Zachary laughed, his expression a little embarrassed. Laren smiled, understanding. He turned to her.

‘Laren, Colin – I’m sorry, but perhaps we could discuss Lord Bairdly’s request after Darian’s appointment? I should have some time then.’ When both of them had nodded their acquiescence, he added, ‘And, ah, please don’t mention this to Karigan? It’s intended to be a surprise.’

‘Not a word,’ Laren promised, biting back laughter.

~

‘I am… reliably informed by your aunts that it’s your birthday next month.’

Karigan looked up from the paperwork in front of her, startled by the change of subject. Zachary gave a small, amused smile.

‘It is,’ she said cautiously. He laughed.

‘I was just wondering if you wanted to do something,’ he said, leaning back in his chair. ‘It’s your birthday, so it can be anything you like. With anyone you like. The nobility would probably suggest some large celebratory ball but there are plenty of other options.’

Karigan tried to think. She didn’t usually do much for her birthday; when she’d been at home she’d had a little breakfast party with her father and her aunts, and that had been more or less it.

‘Does it have to be public? And formal?’ she asked cautiously. Zachary seemed to consider this for a moment, and then shrugged.

‘Not really. People will expect that, but that’s no reason to stick to it. If you wanted a day just to yourself – out riding Condor, or with your family, or with the Riders, or… holed up in the library? That’s perfectly fine. I’ll make sure it’s arranged for you.’

Karigan fell back into thought.

Riding sounded good. As did time with her family. And time with the Riders. Zachary had her preferences pinned down clearly, she realised with a little sheepishly. Was she really so obvious?

But just as she had settled into constructing the perfect near-solitary day with no nobility, no grandeur, and no fuss, she felt suddenly uncomfortable. She was acting as though the nobility side of her life – a part that was imminently going to become both permanent and pervasive – was something she’d do anything to avoid, something she couldn’t ever enjoy. Hadn’t she decided that she had to stop treating it like that if she was going to adjust to it? And weren’t there things about it already that she was growing used to? The face of Lady Estora came to mind, and a few of the others. Then the ever-helpful Alton. Lord Leonar, and the rest of Zachary’s family. This was going to be part of her life now. Shouldn’t she start treating it that way instead of running in the other direction the first chance she had?

‘You don’t have to decide now,’ Zachary said gently, breaking into her thoughts. ‘Just let me know in the next few days so that I can make sure it’s all arranged.’

Karigan nodded quietly, still thinking. She heard Zachary quietly requesting tea from a servant and then shifting into conversation with Captain Mapstone, allowing her time to consider.

She could still go riding. Maybe in the morning? And then in the afternoon concede to some socialising with the nobility. Or select members thereof. Maybe when she went riding she could go with Zachary, and her father; and Alton and Estora? Estora… a thought struck Karigan suddenly and she lifted her head slightly, frowning in dismay.

‘Karigan? Is something wrong?’

She looked at him, and then at Captain Mapstone. Perhaps it was a stupid question. But she had to ask now, it would be horrible to find out at the last moment.

‘I’m fine,’ she reassured him. ‘I was just… it just occurred to me…’ she sighed, and frowned again, feeling slightly apprehensive. Really, it was such a petty question to raise before the king.

 _But he’s Zachary,_ she thought. _He won’t laugh. I wouldn’t be marrying him if he was the sort of person who would_.

‘What?’

‘Well.’ She cleared her throat and shifted awkwardly. ‘This is going to sound very silly, but… all the ladies, the nobility…’ she took a breath and plunged on, ‘well, they all, when they go riding, they dress very finely and they always ride side-saddle.’ She looked at Captain Mapstone, who had raised her eyebrows in surprise.

‘And you don’t like doing that, and you’re wondering if you’ll have to learn to,’ Zachary said quietly, surprising her. He did sound amused, somewhat, but not in a mocking or condescending way, to her relief. She nodded sheepishly.

‘I don’t think that’s a silly question,’ he said, looking at her directly. He shifted in his seat, thoughtfully. After some consideration, he spoke again.

‘It’s all about compromises,’ he said slowly. ‘When you step into a position like this – even like when I did, from Province-Lord to King – you step into a lot of expectations, many of which are extremely specific and… well, let’s be honest, rather irrelevant to your ability to rule.’ He gave her a small grin, and she laughed a little.

‘I get that impression,’ she confessed. He nodded.

‘Well, in my experience – and watching my father, my mother, my grandmother – it’s about drawing your own line. On the one hand you want to live up to expectations – there’s a queen-consort-shaped gap in the population’s imagination, and you need to fill it. But on the other hand you have a duty to yourself – and part of your duty to your position is caring about yourself. You need to find compromises: the shape of a queen-consort can almost certainly accommodate one who dresses more practically for riding, and if that’s something you don’t want to lose, then don’t.’

Two servants arrived with tea and cake at that moment, and there was a pause while everyone was served. Then Zachary continued.

‘The knack,’ he said, ‘is in consistency, and confidence. If you want to do something a certain way, and you think people will disapprove… prepare well, do it confidently and act as though _of course_ everyone will approve. Generally speaking, there’ll be a little grumbling to start with, but more people – particularly Lord-Governors – will approve of your confidence, even if they’re unimpressed by your actions. And with most small things like that, they’ll get used to it.’

Karigan nodded. She’d never heard Zachary speak quite like this before; though she was familiar with his strategic side and his talent for observation, the combination of the two was intriguing.

‘Besides,’ Zachary said, his tone suddenly lighter. ‘You’re picturing the image of someone like the Lady Estora, or the Lady Triss. You should have met my grandmother. She kept more weaponry on the walls than most of the men I know, once threw a silver paperweight at a Lord-Governor, and never, that I can recall, rode side-saddle.’ He grinned at her as she started to laugh.

‘Really?’ she said, still giggling a little bit. Captain Mapstone was chuckling as well.

‘Really,’ Zachary said with laughter in his eyes. ‘She would have approved of you, I think. She and my mother never got along particularly well; mother was the more formal kind of lady, very hot on manner and demure behaviour. They were quite the pair of contrasts.’

Karigan sipped her tea, trying to ease her giggling. It was difficult. She settled for asking the question that had immediately come to mind.

‘Your grandmother,’ she said.

‘Mm?’ said Zachary, who had taken a piece of cake.

‘Did she really throw a paperweight at a Lord-Governor?’

Captain Mapstone coughed – though Karigan thought it might have been more of a laugh than a cough – into her cup of tea. Zachary laughed outright.

‘Apparently,’ he said. ‘It was before I was born. She was made Queen when she was just eighteen years old. And we’d had four kings in a row before her. Court had gotten a little… masculine. It seems a lot of the nobility felt that this poor little girl wouldn’t really be up for the job. In her first council meeting, she found that all of the nobles were talking over her, ignoring her. So she picked the worst offender, and threw a silver paperweight at him. She had an excellent aim; if I recall the story correctly, it passed no more than an inch away from his face and clattered to the floor.’

‘I imagine that got their attention,’ Karigan said, grinning. The image was a delight; she knew what she’d be picturing next time someone spoke to her condescendingly.

‘I should think so,’ Zachary said with a similar grin. ‘She always used to say she had no problems keeping them in line after that, though that may have been an oversimplification.’

‘Your grandmother was a formidable woman,’ Captain Mapstone agreed.

There was a warm bubble of silence in the room for a moment. Karigan, caught by curiosity, ventured another question.

‘Were you very close?’ she asked. Zachary tilted his head to the side thoughtfully.

‘I was always very fond of her,’ he said, ‘and she of me, I believe. But we were a fairly old-fashioned family – I saw her twice a week, for an hour at a time, and I shared that time with my brother. So we weren’t in a position to grow particularly close. And she passed away when I was twelve.’

Karigan nodded.

‘You look thoughtful,’ Zachary said. Karigan shrugged.

‘You don’t really talk about them, about your family,’ she said quietly. ‘I can understand… I don’t talk about my mother very much… it just makes me a little curious.’

Zachary considered this, his eyes on her, suddenly much harder to read. But she didn’t feel that he had closed off entirely; more withdrawn briefly, to better think.

‘I suppose I don’t talk about them very much,’ he said after a few moments, ‘because I’m used to most people around me knowing them better than I did.’ He shifted position again, frowning thoughtfully. ‘I saw my parents once every day, at dinner usually; my grandfather died before I was born. Grandmother, we lost when I was twelve; my mother died three years later. And the year after that, I was sixteen, and sent to Hillander Province to be Lord-Governor there. I didn’t come back, even to visit, until the month before father died.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Karigan said softly, not because Zachary sounded particularly distraught, but because it was the sort of thing you said in these circumstances. He nodded in response.

‘It comes down to not having much to say about them, I suppose. And then it becomes a habit.’ He shrugged, and then changed the subject. Karigan followed it, and they kept up a lively conversation until the tea and cakes were finished.

Later, when she was walking back to Rider barracks, she was still turning the question of her birthday over in her mind. A compromise, Zachary had said. Maybe this was a good opportunity to try that out. But it wasn’t until after she’d eaten and more or less settled in for the night that she had an idea. Sitting up and lighting a candle, she pulled paper and ink toward herself and began to jot it down.

Half an hour later, she had a plan, and a guest list. She knew it would take some refining – she hadn’t bothered to work out who might actually be available at the keep on her birthday, and she knew there would be a couple of politically-motivated choices to make. To this end, she had allocated a certain number of guest spots to people she knew and cared about; a smaller number to people who seemed nice who she thought she might get to know more; and three spots to use for anyone who would have to be invited – say because their sister was coming, or their husband, or their daughter, and it would be bad manners not to include them.

Her plan wasn’t too detailed, but she felt comfortable with turning it over to Zachary and staff with that much information in it. And on a separate sheet of paper she had made some notes about the formalwear problem. Her uniform, even her dress uniform, wouldn’t be quite right for the occasion. She needed something different.

Pleased with herself, she snuffed the candle and fell asleep quickly.

~

She sent the guest list and plan with a Green Foot runner to Zachary the next morning. She had noted on the top that she was open to suggestions, not wanting to seem too demanding. But a note was returned to her an hour later, in Zachary’s handwriting.

_Excellent idea! Will start making arrangements. Guest list looks good to me, too. Join me for lunch? Have already sent message to your father. We’ll be in the royal quarters. Z._

She found it oddly endearing that he had just signed it with his initial, and wasn’t quite sure why. She sent back her confirmation, and settled back into her duties with a faint smile on her face.


	6. Sacoridia's Knight

Lord Leonar shifted slightly in his seat. It was good to be in Sacor City, but better to be able to spend some time with Zachary again. He and his cousin had grown close during Zachary’s term as Lord-Steward of Hillander, but since Zachary had become king they rarely saw each other. Of course, the inevitable result of the lord-governors being in Sacor City was an inordinate amount of meetings. This one had already gone on for two hours, though the end was in sight. There had been a pause while Zachary signed off on some detail of legal adjustment, and some of the lord-governors were talking amongst themselves. To his left, Lord Leonar heard Lord D’lvary and Lord Mirwell grumbling to each other about Rider Sir G’ladheon. _Don’t they have anything better to discuss?_

‘For goodness sake, it’s not even as if she can possibly have the dignity required. The woman wears a _uniform_. Better we had the most vapid noble girl on the consort’s throne than a _merchant’s_ daughter.’

‘And I suppose it’s asking too much for the king to marry someone who’s actually Sacoridian.’

Lord Mirwell’s voice accidentally carried into a lull in other conversation, and all the table heard it. Leonar glanced at his cousin. Zachary’s expression was about as close as one could politely come to rolling one’s eyes. Leonar couldn’t blame him. _Not Sacoridian?_

‘I’ll hear it,’ Zachary said steadily. ‘But I warn you, Mirwell, if you end up looking like a fool, I won’t be blamed for it.’

Lord Mirwell lifted his chin.

‘Sire, it pains me to be the bearer of such news,’ he said, entirely unconvincingly. ‘But Rider Sir G’ladheon is not all that she claims to be.’

The rest of the table looked sceptical. If Mirwell was hoping for support, Leonar thought, he’d do better to stick to the standard dislike of commoners. This sounded far too outlandish, and none of the other lord-governors would risk looking a fool before the king. Zachary was frowning, as though he was uncertain of where Lord Mirwell was aiming.

‘She claims to be Sacoridian, and I’m sure it is a convincing claim. I myself attended Selium with her, and I had no idea. But more recently, strong evidence has come to light. Rider Sir G’ladheon is _not_ Sacoridian, but is in fact the descendant of a man so brutal…’

‘Oh,’ Zachary’s expression cleared. ‘You refer to the diary of Hadriax el Fex?’

Lord Mirwell looked momentarily thrown, but he pulled himself together quickly.

‘You’ve heard of it?’ he said.

‘I’ve read it,’ Zachary replied dryly. ‘I dare say some time before you did. We have a copy in the keep library.’

Lord Mirwell’s expression reminded Leonar of some kind of puffing fish. Despite the potential seriousness of the conversation, he had to bite back a laugh. Someone really needed to teach the pompous ass how to behave.

‘And you still think it’s appropriate to bring such a woman into the royal family? Her ancestry is Arcosian, by way of a man who perpetuated terrible atrocities against Sacoridians in the war. By the gods, don’t you wonder about her motives?’

There was some muttering around the table about this but most of the nobles were, like Leonar, watching the king. Zachary sat back in his chair, watching Lord Mirwell carefully, his expression calm.

‘On the contrary, I wonder something else. I wonder this: if you feel that Hadriax el Fex, who can never meet Karigan or interact with her, or indeed have any influence upon her save in his choice of name, is enough of a presence to render her tainted by association… what you must think of me and my brother?’

It felt to Leonar as though everyone but Zachary ceased to breathe. The king spoke on.

‘Amilton and I had the same upbringing – the same parents, the same teachers, the same allowances, the same strictures, we lived in the same era and were approximately of the same rank. And yet I think I can fairly class myself as a moral, decent person, and Amilton was a murdering raping bastard.’ Zachary’s voice was toneless and flat, but there was an element of danger to it. ‘You make no objection to my position based on my brother’s behaviour, and yet Karigan – who is distanced from Hadriax el Fex by hundreds of years and an entirely different culture – is somehow stained with her ancestor’s deeds. I confess, I find it bewildering.’

The silence in the room was almost painful with tension. Leonar thought that Mirwell would be cowed by this, but the young man managed to speak through a clenched jaw.

‘The situations are hardly alike, and I still feel –’

But Zachary had finally had enough.

‘Lord Mirwell,’ he said, cutting across Mirwell’s words. ‘If you would like to propose that an adjustment be made to the law in order to make individuals responsible for the crimes of their forebears, I suggest you raise it in the standard way – and be advised that it will have to apply to everyone. Other than that, I think you’ve said more than enough, don’t you? I’ll hear no more from you on the matter.’

Mirwell had gone white at the king’s implication, and he merely nodded and refused to meet anyone’s eyes. With no small amount of dignity, Zachary turned to the others and moved on to the final, minor matters of the meeting. But Leonar knew his cousin well enough to see that, inwardly, he was seething. Well, perhaps this evening’s planned surprise would take his mind off it.

~

Karigan meandered through the party. It wasn’t a large gathering – only thirty or so people, including her family and Zachary’s – and people were talking amiably. It was good to be amongst, for the most part, friends. She found her Aunt Gretta talking to Lord Leonar by the window and joined them.

‘Ah, Rider Sir G’ladheon,’ Lord Leonar said with a smile. ‘Glad to see you join us. But I’m afraid as I was just saying to your aunt, I’m going to have to slip away for a moment. We’ve brought Zachary a surprise. A rare thing for a king.’ He gave her a quick conspiratorial grin and moved off through the crowd. Karigan’s eyes followed him as he made his way to Zachary’s side.

There was a little talking, and Zachary frowned, and nodded. Karigan excused herself to her aunt and headed towards the king herself, curious. Zachary turned as she approached.

‘Leonar has some state matter he needs to raise now,’ he said apologetically. ‘I may need to step out briefly. Though why it could not be raised earlier or wait until tomorrow…’ His words faded to silence as the door to the room opened, and Karigan saw his expression go from frustration to delight before she turned.

A man she hadn’t seen before was coming towards them. Older than Leonar – perhaps in his sixties, she guessed – and relying heavily on a thick cane as he moved, he was grinning back at Zachary. Leonar was beaming from behind him, and Karigan caught the family resemblance without being sure of what it meant for this stranger’s identity. Then he was with them, and caught Zachary in an embrace.

‘Emry! It’s so good to see you!’

‘And you – gods, Zachary, look at you!’

Karigan stepped back, slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm the two men were showing each other. It had caught the attention of the rest of the room, though some people were still making token attempts to continue the rest of their conversations.

‘Karigan,’ Zachary said after a minute or so, turning to her. ‘This is my uncle – Leonar’s father – Lord Emry. We were very close when I was in Hillander. Uncle, may I introduce Rider Sir Karigan G’ladheon, my fiancée.’

Lord Emry _beamed_ at her, and gave her a little half-bow.

‘An honour! Zachary’s very sweet on you, you know,’ he said, and Karigan laughed as Zachary looked somewhat embarrassed. ‘I’m not normally able to make it to Sacor City. Joint problems make travelling difficult. But I couldn’t miss the wedding – I travelled slower than Leonar, so I said I’d surprise my nephew.’

~

The more they talked, the more Karigan developed a liking for Lord Emry. He was rather pompous in his manner and had an expansive way of talking; but he also seemed to be quick to school himself to another person’s comfort. He was swift to realise that she was still a little shy, and toned himself down for her without any hint of condescension. He, Zachary, and Leonar talked at surprising rate – she supposed that they had a lot in common from their times together, and much to catch up on – but managed not to make her feel left out. She began to relax.

Gradually, their circle of conversation widened to include a mix of others from the room. The conversation, which had been partly about her life as a Green Rider, turned to the subject of women’s work and men’s work.

Lord Kendry, a young man from D’Yer province who was engaged to Lady Miranda, was holding forth on the more conservative perspective as he countered Lord Leonar’s suggestion that men and women could do much the same tasks with little difficulty.

‘But that is as false as saying –’ he gestured expansively, as he tried to think of an example. ‘Well, as saying that a man could be a mother, or a woman a knight in shining armour.’

‘An extremely common mistake, my lord,’ said Lady Bairdly politely, but firmly. ‘My mother passed away when I was very small, and I was raised largely by my father – my brothers and I never felt that he lacked anything we needed. When a sickness passed through Bairdly several years ago and caught myself as well as the children and a number of the servants, my husband nursed us back to health as much as the menders. It depends on the man, of course.’

Zachary, who had been listening with interest, spoke up.

‘As for female knights in shining armour, I know one at least – and at the moment, I’m rather intent on marrying her.’

Karigan fought to keep her expression neutral, but was certain that some degree of blush was appearing.

‘Rider Sir G’ladheon is your knight in shining armour?’ Lady Miranda asked, smiling.

Zachary inclined his head in a nod, and Lord Leonar looked at Karigan consideringly.

‘Well, she fulfils all the requirements…’ he said. The others in the group chipped in with suggestions.

‘Rides a horse.’

‘Brave, undoubtedly.’

‘Is, actually, a knight.’

‘Has saved the king’s life on a number of occasions, specifically, as I hear it, in dramatic or unusual ways.’

‘The only thing she’s missing, of course, is the shining armour,’ Zachary said, slightly too innocently. Karigan caught his eye.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ she shot back, only half-joking. Almost instantly she was horrified with herself – teasing the king was probably not something she should do in public – but then the little circle of people around them burst into laughter, Zachary included, and something in his expression told her she’d spoken well.

‘Oldest story in the world, marrying your knight in shining armour. And people say this marriage isn’t traditional,’ he said. Karigan grinned back at him.

~

Later that evening, in a darker and less merry room, a very different conversation was taking place.

‘Well, it’s simple, isn’t it? Look, leave it to me. I’ll put her off.’

‘Damnit, Barrett, the last thing I need is problems with the throne. Do not do anything stupid.’

‘You worry too much. She’s easily put off. Think about how quickly she ran away when you took her down at Selium. And her father ran away from home, I heard. Fleeing the scene is practically a G’ladheon trait. Don’t ask questions. All I’ll do is give her a little scare. Nothing illegal. Nonetheless, it might be better if you were… unaware of the details.’

A pause.

‘You’d best be right, Barrett.’

‘My lord.’


	7. A Noble Compromise

‘I know you’re not fond of a big fuss. Especially in front of people you don’t know well. So I thought we’d do this here, if that’s all right.’

Karigan waited, amused to note that Zachary seemed altogether less confident than usual. He reached inside the pocket of his jacket, and brought out a slim black box. He held it out to her, and met her eyes.

‘Happy birthday,’ he said quietly.

Karigan took it, feeling warm and a little embarrassed, but also rather pleased. Aware that Tegan and Mara were watching her (the former rather avidly), she opened the box and carefully unfolded the top layer of black velvet to see the contents.

It was a necklace, and a fairly simple one – a charm on a smooth leather cord. But the charm was what made her smile. It was a perfect miniature of a suit of armour. Beside it on the velvet was a pair of silver earrings like little shields.

‘Please don’t be worried about telling me if you don’t like it,’ Zachary said, nervousness now clear in his voice. ‘I don’t really know what sort of thing you like, so it was sort of a… shot in the dark. I thought I could at least learn from this time…’ he trailed off. Karigan realised she hadn’t said anything yet, hadn’t even reacted. She looked up, and smiled at him.

‘They’re beautiful,’ she said. ‘Thank you, they’re really wonderful.’

She felt awkward, falling back on the sort of phrases she’d been taught to use as a child for showing gratitude, and tried to push all of her genuine appreciation into her tone. It didn’t seemed to have worked very well, because Zachary still looked slightly unsure.

‘You like them?’ he said, sounding cautiously pleased.

‘I love them,’ she said honestly. ‘I really do.’

This time her earnestness seemed to get through. Zachary smiled – no, he _grinned_ back at her. Despite the presence of the other Riders, Karigan felt a little kick of confidence. Praying it would stay with her and she wouldn’t get embarrassed, she carefully extracted the necklace from the box, unclasped it and held it out to Zachary with an expectant expression.

To her suppressed delight, he went slightly pink about the ears as he took the ends of it from her; it was a great shame, she thought, that she had to turn around. She lifted her hair carefully to keep it out of the way, and held still as he lifted the necklace over her head and then fastened it carefully.

The tips of his fingers brushed ever so slightly against the back of her neck, and she hoped her thoughts didn’t show on her face. Judging by Tegan’s barely suppressed smirk, they probably had.

~

She stowed the earrings in a locked box in her room, and hid it at the bottom of the wardrobe. Then she returned to the corridor and gave Zachary a sheepish smile.

‘Don’t want to lose them riding,’ she explained. He nodded, not seeming at all offended, and she saw his eyes flick briefly to the cord of the necklace, still visible though she had tucked the charm into her jacket. He offered her his arm, and they walked out of the barracks and over to the main courtyard, where their guests – her guests – were milling around in conversation as their horses were brought out.

Condor and a horse for Zachary were already stood a little distance away from the nobility, each held by a stable boy. Karigan felt her skirt against her heels, and swallowed down a tinge of nervousness. Compromises. Make your choice with confidence, and then stick with it. Dare them to make a complaint. After all, you’re going to be queen. There’s no need for you to be afraid of them.

When they reached Condor, Karigan broke away from Zachary and ran her hand down Condor’s neck reassuringly. Zachary was already mounting, and a number of the nobility were doing so as well. Despite having chosen her guests as people she mostly felt comfortable with, Karigan still felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle with all the eyes on her. They could see that she was in a long skirt, but also that Condor wasn’t prepared for a side-saddle rider. She moved to the right position, hooked her foot into one stirrup, and swung the other leg over his back. As she did so, her skirt did exactly what it was designed to do. The dark purple material separated at the front – it was only one layer, and she wore smart but sensible trousers for riding underneath – and spread out behind her, the simple blue embroidery looking oddly ornate in the outdoor light. It matched that of the bodice of her dress, which was actually more like a jacket and involved no corset. Karigan smiled to herself. _Compromises._

Zachary raised an eyebrow.

‘You look lovely,’ he said. ‘I’m impressed with your adaptability.’

Karigan grinned back at him.

‘It’s just confidence,’ she replied, and he laughed.

~

They made their way, with all the others, out through the town and then into the woods a little way, eventually coming to a large clearing. Servants were already there, blankets and food laid out. They dismounted and handed the horses over to guards and servants, and everyone settled down to enjoy the picnic.

‘This was an excellent idea, Karigan,’ Alton said from a little way away. Karigan smiled gratefully at him.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

The afternoon passed slowly and pleasantly. Karigan received a number of compliments on her dress, and was asked several times for the name of the dressmaker. She found to her surprise that she was truly, genuinely enjoying herself. Zachary, in a lighter and more open manner than he usually had in public, was a large part of that, as was the presence of Mara, Tegan, Ty, Fergal, and Dale; but she also felt, for the first time, that perhaps adjusting to being part of the nobility wasn’t going to be as much of a painful struggle as she had anticipated.

They all headed back to the castle after a few hours, and separated to get dressed for the evening’s festivities. This was the harder part; most of the nobility available would be in attendance, and it would be a lot more formal. Lia helped her get changed into her dark blue dress, and then to put on the necklace and earrings from Zachary. The silver in them caught the light smoothly, standing out almost like liquid against her skin.

~

The weeks seemed to flow past. Karigan began to genuinely enjoy some of the social gatherings – some of them were much more like work than leisure, but they didn’t feel quite so intimidating any more. She had settled into a way of working them that meant if she made a misstep one day, she could rest comfortably knowing she’d be able to correct it the next. She was getting used to who she could trust to be genuine, and who to keep at a polite distance. And she and Zachary seemed to be dancing around each other, growing slowly closer despite how attentively they were watched. They were learning to read each other’s nearly-neutral expressions from across the room; to tease each other lightly without stepping outside the bounds of formality. She relaxed much more when they danced now, trusting his experience to lead her around the floor, and in doing so improving her own ability. She didn’t know it, but many members of the nobility were gaining confidence in her. The gossip around her had gone from detached to invested as many took position – some against her, certainly, but many more in support.

She still made sure to have an evening with the Riders once a week – even if it was after a party with the nobility. They’d get together in the common room, drink a little, and Karigan could properly and completely relax. She became painfully aware of how important they were to her, her friends. She resolved not to allow the friendships to vanish, but it was several days of worrying before Mara and Tegan dragged the problem out of her and provided the solution. She took it to Zachary, who smiled and said it was an excellent point. She must be formal, as queen, at all times – but only in public. It was perfectly reasonable to invite her friends to spend an afternoon or evening with her in the Royal Quarters, and there drop formality and just enjoy their company.

~

_Dear Alton,_

_I have some news for you that may come as a shock. I hope… well. You have been nothing if not obliging and wonderful, but I will understand if this is very difficult for you. I would appreciate knowing where you stand as soon as possible, as I have a lot of arrangements to make. But don’t feel that… oh, I don’t know. I’m getting in knots before I’ve even started. I just want you to be happy, and me to be happy. However strange it might look to others._

_I suppose I should just get right down and say it. I’m pregnant, Alton. And it can’t be anyone’s but yours._

_I don’t know what your reaction will be. I wish we were having this discussion face to face so that I could look into your eyes and know. But Selium and Sacor City – I assume you’re back in Sacor City by now? – are too far apart, and I cannot delay this information._

_I intend to keep the child. I thought about it, very carefully, and I spoke to my father; and I intend to keep it. However… Alton, I hope you won’t take this badly. But you know I have no desire to be a Lord-Governor’s wife. I also have no desire to raise a Lord-Governor’s child. I know you will face difficulties with your family, and I don’t intend to aggravate them – certainly not when what they will probably want lines up so well with what I do. I want you to ask them to formally disown the child. Free them from the inheritance of the D’Yers. You’ll marry someday, Alton, or your brother will – and you’ll have legitimate heirs. Let this child be a Fiori. There’ll be no stigma for a Fiori to have unmarried parents – there wasn’t for me – and we’d be happy for you to visit as much or as little as you like._

_I almost want to wrap this letter up with some of my normal messages – a lot has being going on with my teaching, and I’d like to ask after Karigan because as usual she only ever gives me half the story. But it seems… irreverent, somehow. I will only say that I am otherwise well, and I hope that you are too._

_All my love,_

_Estral_


	8. Weaponless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating regularly again! In case anyone missed it, there were two chapters posted last week :) For now, however, it'll be one a week until the fic is finished.

Karigan led Condor into the stables, feeling a little tired but pleased by the exercise. She looked around and listened, but couldn’t hear or see any stable hands – that didn’t matter, she was perfectly capable of sorting Condor out herself. As she got on with that ordinary business, she let her mind wander to this afternoon’s meeting. She had about half an hour to get from here, to her quarters, change, and then present herself at the meeting. Enough time, especially knowing that Lia would be waiting for her and would have her dress ready. But still, she shouldn’t take any more time here than she needed. She finished with Condor, and stepped out into the main part of the stables.

The first thing she heard was the soft whir of something passing through the air at speed. Then a gasp, and a thud, as Weapon Garen dropped to the floor only feet away from her. Karigan hardly stopped to think; instantly she pulled herself against the wall and faded from sight, peering around.

Garen had some kind of dart sticking out of the side of his neck, and was unconscious. Karigan watched for a few moments; he was breathing steadily. Hopefully he’d just been knocked out. She leaned forward a little way to try to see the stable entrance, where she knew Weapon Fidel should be waiting. She saw a huddled shape on the floor, and her heart sank.

Standing silently in the shadows, she was completely invisible. But it was bright sunlight outside, and patches of it shone in through the windows. Traversing the stables was risky, and leaving them would render her visible – if ghostly.

There was no movement anywhere in the stables, save the fidgeting of a horse or two. Karigan tried to work out where the darts had come from; were her attackers outside the stables, or inside? Where inside, if so?

After a long minute of waiting and hearing nothing, Karigan made up her mind. She couldn’t stay here all day. She would move carefully through the stables, avoiding the patches of sunlight, and check for threats. If she found none, then she would make a decision about leaving the stables. At worst, she’d be stuck waiting here until other people came in for horses; or, she corrected herself, until Zachary realised she was missing and sent a runner for her. So not a long wait.

Carefully she edged her way along the wall. Her hand touched something and she looked – a rake, for clearing the floors. It wasn’t the ideal improvised weapon, but it would do. She picked it up and hefted it carefully, adjusting to the weight.

The air was still. Her muscles taut, she stepped carefully away from the wall, still avoiding the sunlight, and turned to peer carefully into one of the stalls to see if it was empty.

A pair of hands grabbed her neck and pulled her backwards and down; a figure suddenly in front of her grabbed the rake and tried to pull it away from her. She kicked out at him and yanked the rake from his grip, then swung it around to catch her first attacker in the side. He let out a muffled yell and released her neck; she dropped to the floor and rolled away from both of them, only to encounter a third man swinging a sword. She hit out at his knees with the rake, and then threw herself into him as he crashed to the ground. More precisely, she was aiming for his wrist; if she could take the sword, if she could just take the sword…

She grabbed the wrist and jerked it around – the fingers released – she grabbed the handle of the sword and rolled off him, back up to the wall of the stable, waving the sword in front of her as a warning as she got to her feet.

‘Who are you and what do you want?’ she asked, getting her bearings. Three men with minor injuries; a fourth with no problems. Any more? Not that she could see. All right, then. They were a mix of sizes, but shared the same general build and stance – soldiers, two in their middle years, one a little older, one who looked younger than Karigan. So they probably had some sword training, and some real fight experience. But no one was carrying a blade with a swordmaster’s black ribbon – that was something at least.

None of them answered her question; though the younger one was glancing nervously to the main entrance. _Noise_ , thought Karigan. _They can’t have taken out everyone in earshot, the keep is too busy. If I make enough noise…_

The nearest man swung at her. Karigan focused on the fight in front of her. Four to one, yes, but the youngest was hesitant to get involved and one of the others had no weapon. She had kept the rake in her left hand and she used it to keep them a safer distance away from her.

The world had simplified into thrust, and parry, and dodge, and attack. She could feel her training take over. She couldn’t stay in the position she was in, it was vulnerable and she couldn’t get the reach. She needed to break their semi-circle, scatter them about. A moment for consideration; then she charged, rake and sword, swinging at the older man. He took the sword across the stomach and fell to his knees, then onto his face. One down. She ran the length of the stables, the others pounding behind her, then ducked into an empty stall. She pulled the door back, and then slammed it into the approaching attacker, winding him and knocking him onto his back – and into the legs of the two behind him. _Good._ She took advantage of the extra time to pull herself over the top of the barrier between two stalls, then stepped out of a different stall door behind the attackers who were just getting to their feet.

One sword through the back of one man, and he was down – not dead, but squirming on the floor. Karigan didn’t look at him, but focused on the remaining two. Both men raised their swords. The older one looked at her, and spat.

‘Galadheon, traitor,’ he said. Karigan readied herself.

The fight was brief, but brutal. Karigan realised, with faint shock, that they weren’t going to be too hard to beat. The two left over had good abilities with the sword, enough to deal with civilians or to easily intimidate a noble lady – but they hadn’t had Drent screaming at them every day, refusing anything but flawless execution of every manoeuvre. She took the third man down with a blow to the head that sounded loud and flat in the space; the fourth, the youngest, ran at her in fury – she stepped aside, struck him across the back, and he dropped to the floor with a thud, still.

Her chest heaving, Karigan let herself lean back against the stable wall again. The side of her head felt wet and bloody, her body felt heavy and stiff to move, and she could feel bruises starting to blossom across her ribs. Then she heard the footsteps in the stable entrance; she shifted into a fighting stance without thinking, adjusting her grip on the sword, listening hard.

‘Who’s in there? Karigan?’

_Alton_ _._

‘Alton?’ she called back, her throat dry. She heard him moving towards her. ‘No, go and get the guards, Alton, go now.’

There was a pause.

‘Right – Ty and Mara are just in the courtyard too, I’ll send them your way.’

‘Thank you,’ she called after him.

The minutes passed. She kept watching the four men on the floor, in case she hadn’t injured them as badly as it had appeared. But they stayed down. After what felt like ages but was actually only a few brief minutes, she heard sounds at the stable entrance, and then Mara’s voice.

‘Karigan? Karigan, are you there?’

‘Here,’ Karigan said. ‘It’s safe, come down.’ Mara and Ty ran down the corridor, sabres drawn. They got about half way down and then stopped, looking around.

‘Karigan, where are you?’ Mara said, looking confused.

‘I’m right… oh.’ Karigan realised with a start that she had never dropped her fading. She had been faded out for most of the fight. As though it had been waiting for her to notice, her head began to throb. She touched her brooch, and faded back in with a wave of exhaustion. It was then, with the colour flooding back into the world, that she noticed that all for men were dressed in the uniform of the Mirwell militia.

Mara spotted her immediately.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘Are you hurt? Alton went to fetch the guards, they should be here soon, and he said he’d send a mender this way as well…’ As she spoke she approached Karigan and took her arm, leading her away from the scene of the fight. Ty, his sabre still drawn as he looked around cautiously, followed behind them.

~

The meeting was a formal one, and a number of Province Lords were present. There was no major specific issue to be addressed; it was what Laren referred to as a ‘general state of the nation’ meeting, where broad matters like taxation rates and health of the populace could be discussed alongside trading arrangements, legal consistency across provinces and any concerns of the nobility that had wider impacts could be shared. A good one for Karigan’s first; there was a seat ready for her on Zachary’s left, with Laren on the other side of her. She wasn’t expected to contribute particularly – though she certainly wasn’t disallowed from doing so – but it was her first opportunity to see the mechanics of politics from her anticipated position.

The meeting was due to start at two hour, and the table was already filling up. Zachary nodded along to Sperren’s conversation while keeping an eye on the various nobles settling around the table. Part of his mind, as always, was also on Karigan. She had had training and Green Rider duties this morning, and then taking Condor out for a ride. She’d settle Condor in the stables, then change and head straight to the meeting. Every now and then he wondered, with faint embarrassment, if he should be paying this much attention to her schedule; but she always seemed pleased when he knew enough to make allowances for her, and he couldn’t help being interested. He’d thought he would be less preoccupied with her once their engagement was formalised – wondered if his interest was based partly on her inaccessibility – but this didn’t seem to be the case. He was glad of that; it meant there was something deeper there than casual want for something he couldn’t have. Even phrasing it like that wasn’t right; Karigan wasn’t something he wanted to _have_ (he fought back against his internal embarrassment at the phrasing), she was a person he wanted to share his life with.

Rebuking himself for drifting off again, he returned his focus to Sperren. 

‘…of course it’s not a difficult matter to solve, provided one has the patience.’

‘I quite agree.’

The bells could be heard for two hour; Zachary glanced around. Everyone was here, except for Karigan. He glanced at Laren, who gave a minute shrug. Pointedly, he engaged Colin in casual discussion about the weather, and the buzz of informal conversation continued – though more than one person glanced at the empty seat on Zachary’s left.

As the minutes passed and Karigan made no appearance, Zachary maintained an outwardly calm demeanour. Internally, however, he was jumping through the possibilities. Why was Karigan late? Didn’t she understand how important this meeting was? Of course she did. She was probably a little nervous about it, but determined to do well. Perhaps there had been some problem in the stables; Condor? Another Rider? He refused to consider the possibility that she was hurt – there was no evidence of that and it was silly to leap to conclusions. Nevertheless, he could feel his worry in the pit of his stomach.

Ten minutes. Through the polite conversation, Zachary distinctly heard the words _hardly a good first impression_ from someone at the table. He made a decision. He beckoned over a Green Foot who was standing at the door.

‘Go and find Rider Sir G’ladheon and find out what is causing the delay, please,’ he said quietly. The girl nodded and bowed, and made her way across the hall. She left but immediately returned, hurrying back towards Zachary.

‘Rider Sir G’ladheon is on her way up the corridor, sire,’ she said. Zachary felt relieved, and nodded his thanks. But the girl hesitated.

‘Um, sire…’ she trailed off. He frowned at her. But no more was said between them, because at that moment the doors opened and Rider Sir G’ladheon entered.

Zachary stood, ignoring the creak of chairs as the others stood to match him. Karigan strode down the hall towards him, and he felt his heart race as he took in the important details. She was bleeding from a cut on the side of her head; her expression was furious yet controlled; she was still in her Green Rider uniform, including the sabre at her hip. Most significantly, perhaps, she was alone.

‘Where are your Weapons?’ he asked, knowing the words weren’t the right ones but unable to prevent himself from saying them.

‘In the Mending Ward,’ Karigan replied in a clipped voice. ‘Permission to report, sire.’

‘At once, please.’

They had slipped into the formal interaction of King and Green Rider; Zachary felt almost blank as he waited for her report, knowing the fury and the fear was coming but containing it under a veneer of formality. There was steel in Karigan’s voice as she spoke.

‘After exercising my horse, I had just settled him in the stables. I noticed that it was suddenly very quiet, and called to see if one of the stable hands was still there. Weapons Garen and Fidel drew closer…’

As the events unfolded in Karigan’s report, Zachary felt white-hot fury and shaking fear storming through him. He fought to contain himself. She had been on the palace grounds, she had been guarded, she _should have been safe_.

‘…and after being checked over by Mender Simeon, I came straight here.’

Zachary nodded tightly. Coiling his anger into something more manageable, he focused on her story. Was there any further information he needed?

‘Were any of these men familiar to you, or did anything about them indicate who they were?’

Karigan hesitated for a fraction of a second – Zachary doubted any of the others saw it – and then seemed to reach a resolution.

‘They were not familiar to me, my lord,’ she said. ‘But they were all dressed in the uniform of the Mirwellian Militia.’

A shockwave seemed to ripple through the hall. Lord Mirwell stepped forward abruptly.

‘How dare you!’ he exclaimed. ‘That is a foul and baseless accusation, and –’

‘If I may, my lord,’ Karigan interrupted without hesitation, ‘I made no accusation against you. Any man may buy cloth of any colour; the uniform does not necessarily indicate an allegiance.’ Her words were polite, but as hard as iron.

Lord Mirwell opened his mouth to speak again, but Zachary quelled him with an uncharacteristically sharp look.

‘Lord Mirwell, stand _down_ ,’ he said. ‘I will hear your stance on this matter in a moment. Rider Sir G’ladheon, is there anything further you wish to add to your report.’

Karigan seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she shook her head.

‘No, sire.’

Zachary gave her a grave nod. She hesitated a moment, and then spoke again.

‘Sire, I am aware these events have delayed your meeting,’ she said. ‘If I may take a few minutes I could return appropriately attired and ready for the meeting? I don’t ask that you delay further for me, of course.’

Zachary nodded, recognising the sense in it even as he admired her practicality.

‘By all means. We will wait for your return; I must address a matter with Lord Mirwell in the meantime.’

Karigan bowed, and left the hall; two Weapons who had been near the doors followed her out. Slowly, and with deliberation, Zachary returned to his seat. He waited until all of the others had done the same, and then turned to Lord Mirwell.

‘Lord Mirwell,’ he said, aware that his tone was dangerously cool and that all of the Lord-Governors would know better than to argue with him. ‘I assume you stand by your initial assertion that you had nothing to do with this attack?’

‘Of course!’ Mirwell’s tone was angry, but he wasn’t quite stupid enough to go into a tirade, especially when his king’s eyes were glittering like that.

‘That is good to hear,’ Zachary said quietly. ‘Of course, you will doubtless then be concerned to find out the reason that your colours have been so slanderously misused. And I imagine you will therefore readily consent to an investigation into all Mirwellian persons in your party at the keep?’

Keeping his eyes on Mirwell, Zachary gestured to Colin.

‘Councillor Dovekey will take charge of it. He will find out if these men were actually part of the Mirwellian party, or merely impersonating them. While he is completing this activity I expect that you will be cooperative, up to and including remaining in your quarters while the investigation is taking place and instructing those below you to do the same. Am I correct in making these assumptions, my lord?’

Mirwell stared at him a moment longer, two spots of colour on his cheeks, evidently furious. But something in Zachary’s expression must have warned him off. He broke eye contact and looked down at the table.

‘Of course, sire,’ he said in a low voice.

Zachary watched him a moment longer, and then turned and nodded to Colin.

‘Councillor Dovekey, if you would.’

Colin nodded, stood and bowed, and then left the room.

~

When Karigan returned approximately five minutes later, her head wound had been cleaned up and she was dressed formally. There were bruises beginning to form around her neck in the shape of a hand grip. Zachary forced his fury down and offered her his hand as she sat down. She took it gracefully.

The meeting went by in a haze of carefully polite discussion. Lord Mirwell volunteered nothing but stared down at his papers, meeting nobody’s eyes. Karigan’s anger seemed to have hardened into something cold, and she was calmly attentive as the nobility debated matters back and forth. Many eyes flicked to her neck and away again, the bruises showing dark and distinct against her skin.

Finally, it was over. As the assembled nobility left their seats and began to make their way out of the hall, Zachary turned to Karigan.

‘Rider Sir G’ladheon,’ he said quietly and formally, ‘if you’ll come with myself and the councillors, your father and aunts are waiting for us in my study. I thought it better they heard about today’s events from myself or you, rather than rumours.’

Karigan nodded, her face still. She didn’t have the perfectly smooth expression of a politician, but she was quite capable of indicating a closed-off sort of neutrality. Zachary had mentally labelled it a Green-Rider-Reporting expression. There was still something in her eyes that made him want to pull her into his arms and reassure her, however.

They left the hall through the side door, Karigan and Zachary walking side by side with Laren, Colin, and Sperren just behind them. Once they were in the less-frequented corridor and away from prying eyes, Karigan’s guardedness lessened. Zachary glanced at her; she looked uncomfortable, chewing her lower lip nervously. He slowed to a stop and turned to her.

‘Karigan, are you all right?’ he asked gently. ‘Is there anything you need?’

Karigan looked up at him and frowned, then shook her head.

‘No, everything is… I’m fine, really,’ she said. ‘I just – I forgot to ask Lia to bring my wrap, and my father’s going to see this before I can even start to explain.’ She touched her neck briefly, and Zachary’s gaze once more tracked the shape of a handprint around it. She caught his expression.

‘It doesn’t matter, it’s just silly,’ she said. ‘Come on, we’re keeping them waiting.’

She turned and carried on down the corridor. Zachary kept pace easily, thinking hard. Then – yes, that would work. He was sure it was at the top of… yes.

Taking the lead, he led their small party a slightly different route, passing into a relatively unused corridor just below the royal quarters. Karigan frowned again.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

‘A very brief detour,’ Zachary said. ‘I won’t be a moment.’

He took his personal set of keys from his pocket, looked through them for a moment, before finding the correct one and entering one of the doors.

‘Wait here, I will be quick,’ he said. A Weapon had already passed in ahead of him. He stepped inside.

The room was very dry, and smelt only faintly musty. He looked around at the numerous boxes and cases on shelves, and thought hard. _It was the last piece that would have gone away; they would have kept it in the original box…_

Turning slowly on the spot, a handsome case like a hexagonal pillar caught his eye. It was painted beautifully, and after a little effort with the unused catch he was able to open one side. Delicately he riffled through the contents, disturbing as little as possible; and then he found it. A moment later, he was locking the door to the room behind him.

‘Here,’ he said, handing the item he had retrieved to Karigan. She took it and let it unfold gently.

‘It’s… lovely,’ she said, surprised. Zachary gave a small smile. The wrap was silk and a soft, pleasing shade of reddish-purple. It was embroidered with little silver birds.

As she followed Zachary along the corridor again, she wrapped herself in it so that the bruises on her neck were no longer visible. She looked thoughtful.

‘Where were we?’ she asked, as they took the stairs up to Zachary’s study. ‘What room was that?’

Ah. Zachary felt his forehead wrinkle slightly as he considered the best way to phrase this. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

‘It was my mother’s,’ he said simply. ‘Some of her things are stored there; along with my father’s, and other members of the family.’ He mentally removed Amilton from that category, as he always did; his brother’s things had been given away or discreetly sold, and if not they had been destroyed.

Karigan looked worried.

‘Zachary, I can’t – this must be precious to you – I couldn’t –’

Zachary raised a hand gently to stop her.

‘If you would rather not wear it, I understand,’ he said carefully. ‘But she had many of them, she isn’t using them, and I really don’t have any attachment to her belongings. Besides,’ he added, in a slightly more amused tone, ‘my mother would have had me by the ear if she thought I’d let a lady feel uncomfortable. She taught me all my manners.’

Karigan laughed, though her expression was still somewhat uncertain.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘I’ll give it back to you very quickly.’

‘As you wish,’ he returned. ‘I’m sure I don’t mind, and she wouldn’t have either.’

Karigan nodded slowly, just as they reached the study door. She paused; Zachary watched her steel herself and present a calm exterior; then she glanced at him. He gave her a soft smile, and they went in.


	9. Of Birth and Bearing

The pre-dinner gathering was a somewhat muted affair. Discussion was confined mostly to less controversial matters, though gossip had already spread through the keep and one or two huddles of less powerful nobles were muttering discreetly about Lord Mirwell’s conspicuous absence.

Lady Estora, looking for Karigan but not quite seeing her, found herself on the edge of a discussion largely dominated by Lord Emry.

‘I’ve always been in support of this match, but I confess… largely because I trust my nephew’s judgement. And, of course, that of his councillors.’ Lord Emry nodded to Captain Mapstone, who inclined her head in return. ‘I will admit that one thing has… well, I have found one aspect of the matter inscrutable. I couldn’t see what it was about Rider Sir G’ladheon that drew King Zachary so strongly. I mean; she is surely a very beautiful lady – but a king meets many beautiful ladies. And she is certainly extremely brave, as her record demonstrates – I assumed it must be that, but the king has met many brave people. Why her, I wondered, why now? But I think,’ he gave a small smile, ‘I think that after today’s events, however concerning, I have come up with part of the answer. And I’m rather hoping that Captain Mapstone will be able to confirm my guess for me.’

Captain Mapstone raised her eyebrows, her expression curious. Estora watched with interest as Lord Emry continued to speak.

‘I think,’ he said, dropping his words carefully into place, ‘that King Zachary and Rider Sir G’ladheon are really quite alike, are they not?’

Estora frowned, thinking he must be mistaken; but Captain Mapstone chuckled.

‘I believe they are,’ she said, looking amused. ‘It’s not immediately obvious. And of course they have their differences. But they have similar personalities in some ways. What brought it to your attention, my lord?’

Lord Emry smiled and sipped his wine. The nobility around him were paying rapt attention to him.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘I suppose I’d better explain this with a story. Back when I was a younger man, we received notice that we were getting a new Lord-Governor. A very young, rather inexperienced gentleman who was at the time…’

‘Prince Zachary,’ a young nobleman piped up. Lord Emry nodded to him.

‘Yes. Sixteen years old, skinny as a rope –’ some of the others laughed briefly in surprise, and Captain Mapstone grinned ‘– and the politest person I’d ever met. Almost _painfully_ shy. Never so far as to lose his status, mind you, he’d been taught better than that; but still, very shy. I remember the first night he had dinner with my side of the family, I noticed at one point that he hadn’t said a word in the last hour. Listening attentively of course – Zachary’s always been an excellent listener – but silent.’

There was a pause while the younger nobility in the circle considered this unfamiliar description of their monarch. Estora found it intriguing, and felt that it made sense. Adult Zachary was still reserved; he’d found his confidence, but his manner remained as almost a habit, perhaps. She thought she began to see what Lord Emry was trying to illustrate.

‘Now, after a week to settle in it’s his first time running the audience – this wasn’t an open public audience, but a specific concerns one where each person or group is seen privately. Now, Zachary handles the first few matters very well – all just simple agreements, disagreements, everything very calm. Then this lord – who shall go unnamed – comes in. Now we knew there was an issue with this one; he’d hired a merchant to do some work on his property, hadn’t liked the result, generally behaved badly about it. The merchant had already lodged a complaint with us, so we all knew about it, including Zachary. But this lord comes in and you can tell – well, he’s clearly heard about Zachary and thought yes, this is our new, shy, inexperienced Lord-Governor, all of sixteen years old – and thinks he can waltz in and bully his way out of trouble.’

Some of the nobility chuckled, the others shook their heads. Estora glanced at Captain Mapstone, who was still watching Lord Emry with an intrigued expression.

‘So he comes in, this lord, and he’s all arrogance and nonsense. ‘Absolutely disgraceful,’ he says, ‘awful nonsense’, ‘hardly acceptable behaviour,’ you know the sort of thing. And the whole time, Zachary is just sat there very quietly, listening to him talk; and the way we’re arranged, we’re all sat a little behind Zachary, and we’re all worried. Zachary is a very capable administrator, but it’s hard – this sort of thing, especially at his age. I can see the other councillors thinking the same thing; should we intervene? Will Zachary ask the lord to leave the room to hear our advice, or will he just concede to him? Well. This lord finishes his rant, and Zachary goes quietly through the formalities, checking details. When he’s finished, the lord starts to speak again – ‘I demand that you –’ and then Zachary just raises a finger.’

Lord Emry raised his index finger in illustration, and looked around at his rapt audience.

‘I wish I’d seen Zachary’s expression,’ he continued, ‘because the lord just stopped dead. And then Zachary gave him his answer. He didn’t shout, didn’t raise his voice, but there was _steel_ in it. Just one minute of instructions of how the lord was going to apologise to the merchant and make the appropriate payment and update us when it was done. Then he dismissed him, and the man went out with his tail between his legs.’ He took another sip of his wine, and spoke on. ‘The door shut behind him, and I remember looking at father and the other councillors – absolutely stunned. Zachary turned around to ask us about the next person, and saw all of our expressions – went instantly from stern Lord-Governor to shy sixteen year-old, shrugged sheepishly and just said ‘I don’t like bullies’.’

Lord Emry smiled around at his audience as they reacted to this – most with amusement, but some with admiration.

‘I remember thinking then, under all that awkwardness and shyness, he’s made of absolute steel. And that’s the same thing we saw today with Rider Sir G’ladheon. She’s still adjusting to the way socialising with the nobility works – she’s not entirely comfortable with it yet, which is perfectly reasonable. So she comes off a little awkward, a little unsure. But when it comes down to the important things – not just compliments and the little ego-games we all like to play – she has a spine of steel. She walked in that room and I think all of us straightened up, even without thinking. The bearing and manner of a queen. She’s going to do very well.’

~

Karigan managed to maintain her composed manner for the rest of the afternoon and evening (dinner with a number of local nobility). But when she eventually got back to the barracks, and sat down on her bed in her room, she started shaking and wasn’t sure she knew how to stop. Mara, who stuck her head in to check on her, didn’t speak a word of rebuke; she just came in, pulled Karigan into a hug, and murmured reassurances in between summoning Lia and requesting hot tea for Karigan. Between the two of them, Karigan was given hot tea and comfort, and once they had gotten her into bed, still unspeaking, Mara dismissed Lia and sat with Karigan until she fell asleep.

The next morning, Karigan felt faintly embarrassed about the whole thing, but both Mara and Lia were perfectly matter of fact, and she soon felt better.

‘After all, it was a very long day,’ Mara said. ‘And it’s not just going through a fight, you’ve done that before – it’s having to be perfectly composed afterwards, and acting calm. I normally have nightmares after a bad ride, even if I was perfectly calm at the time. It’s like you save up the fear for when it’s safe to feel it.’

Karigan wasn’t sure about this, but resolved not to worry about it further. Her aunts fussed over her more than usual for the next few days, but that was much easier to endure than the constant responses of some members of the nobility.

‘Oh, I’d have been terrified!’

‘Honestly, how _awful_ …’

‘Dreadful rogues, appalling business…’

It wasn’t the words so much as it was the tone; this sort of bluff, gossipy fascination, as though it was an exciting story rather than something that had actually happened. Karigan supposed that that was all it seemed to some of the more sheltered members of the nobility. She managed to keep her temper through it for the most part, and any slight brusqueness on her part was generally put down to her having had a ‘difficult few days’. She did, however, draw a line at Lord Mosen, who heard someone else’s telling of it (in Karigan’s presence, for about the fifth time that evening), and commenting,

‘Well, I personally think they were very foolish men. Four against two Weapons isn’t even really a fight, they’re hardly going to be a threat. Mind you, for two Weapons to end up in the mending wing over it… perhaps they’re not as good as they say.’

Karigan had heard several times the assumption that she had been protected by Weapons Garen and Fidel, and various opinions on what this meant. To hear her abilities ignored and theirs slandered in one breath was the last straw. She turned to Lord Mosen.

‘Perhaps I should clarify,’ she said quietly. ‘Weapons Garen and Fidel were taken down by darts from a distance; they are currently recovering from poisoning.’

The soon-to-be-unfortunate Lord Mosen wrinkled his brow.

‘Then – the men were handled by the guards?’ he asked. Next to him, a young lady whispered something to a man on her left, and both of them looked at Karigan knowingly.

‘No, Lord Mosen,’ Karigan said, with a trace of irritation in her voice. ‘I handled the men. I don’t train with Armsmaster Drent in order to be able to dance well at parties.’

There was a brief, embarrassed silence. Lord Mosen didn’t seem to know how to respond. Fortunately, for both him and Karigan, their group was suddenly joined by Lady Triss and her usual small entourage, bearing gossip about some other member of the nobility. Karigan ignored it, focusing on cooling her temper. When she rejoined the conversation, the subject had been changed sufficiently that Lord Mosen was joining in again.

In all this talk, Karigan had noticed that no one seemed willing to gossip about Lord Mirwell. The four men had been confirmed as genuine members of the Mirwell Militia, two marked with the black tree of the Second Empire and two without it, and the one who had survived the incident and was now locked in the dungeons had insisted that their orders had come from Lord Barrett, Lord Mirwell’s steward. Mirwell, by extension, was potentially able to be accused of treason.

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the situation that put off gossip; or perhaps it was the growing number of Lord-Governors in the room, all of whom seemed to inherently forbid any conversation about the potential treason of one of their number. Mirwell himself was attending the bare minimum of social events, and in the meantime avoided conversation with anyone.

The subject of Karigan’s rebuke of Lord Mosen, however, was not quite so sacrosanct. It was Lady Miranda who finally brought it up in front of Karigan, about an hour after the initial incident.

‘I heard that you’re something of a swordswoman, Rider Sir G’ladheon,’ she said. Karigan smiled, but inwardly she winced. She wasn’t supposed to advertise her skills with a sword, for much the same reasons that Zachary didn’t. Though it was hardly a proper secret.

‘I work hard,’ she replied.

‘I’m sure. But to train with Armsmaster Drent… doesn’t he train the Weapons? One of the best, I hear.’

Karigan’s rescue came in the form of Lord Leonar, who joined the conversation rather abruptly – making her wonder just how uncomfortable she had looked at Lady Miranda’s question.

~

‘Father, I need to speak to you. It’s a… delicate matter.’

Lord D’Yer sat back in his chair and frowned at his son in concern.

‘Sit down, Alton,’ he said. ‘What’s the matter?’

Alton sat, his heart thudding in his chest. Estral’s letter, carefully folded, was in his right hand. He thumbed the crease of it nervously.

‘Father, I…’ he trailed off. ‘I have… well, I…’ He swallowed, and straightened his spine. ‘I have acted somewhat carelessly; I know you will not be proud of me. But I…’ he faltered again as his father closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. Lord D’Yer’s expression was distasteful when he reopened his eyes to look at his son.

‘Am I to assume that there is a young lady involved?’

Alton swallowed again, then looked down. His father made a small sound of disapproval.

‘You should know better. Her name?’

Alton licked his dry lips.

‘Estral Andovian.’

His father raised his eyebrows.

‘The Golden Guardian’s daughter?’

Alton nodded mutely. His mother still hadn’t said anything, and he didn’t quite have the nerve to look up and see her expression.

Lord D’Yer seemed to be steeling himself for something.

‘Miss Estral,’ he said delicately. ‘Is she… with child?’

Alton breathed out slowly through his nose. Then he looked up at his father.

‘Yes, she is,’ he said.

‘Oh _Alton_ ,’ his mother breathed quietly. His father was stone-faced, but he radiated fury. His voice was low and cold.

‘After the way we brought you up, to be responsible, to appreciate what your position means, you have casually thrown all your values away – for what? For one night’s amusement? You realise the damage this could do –’

‘Quentin, let’s get a clearer understanding of the situation.’

Alton looked up at his mother for the first time. She had stood, and come to stand next to his father, her hand on his shoulder. Her expression was extremely solemn.

‘Where is the young lady now?’ she asked him.

‘In Selium. She’s a teacher there.’

‘And what does she intend to do?’ she asked. ‘I assume she is able to support a child, the Golden Guardian is a wealthy man; but does she expect support from us? Is she asking for legal recognition, inheritance, recompense? Does she intend to keep the child at all?’

Alton steadied his nerve.

‘She does intend to keep the child. But she does not want recognition from us – from me.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Estral has no interest in marrying – her father never did, and she is more than content to raise a child without a second parent present. She states that she will have the clear support of her father. As for recognition… actually, she is asking for the opposite. She wants the child to be a Fiori, with no other inheritance holding on them. She wants us to legally withdraw any claim on them. Formally, in contract.’

Alton watched his parents’ reaction to this. His mother looked initially surprised, but then she nodded to herself. His father looked stunned, and somewhat less angry.

‘You’re… certain?’ he said. Alton nodded. He unfolded the letter, then folded it again carefully so that the more private part of the message was hidden. Then he handed it to his parents. His father read it, then his mother, both polite enough to only read the revealed section and not pry into the rest of the letter. His mother handed it back to him and he took it, refolding it to its previous configuration. There was a few minutes’ silence.

‘Do you love her?’

Alton sat up a little straighter in his chair, stunned; that was the last question he had expected his father to ask.

‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘Yes, I do. But she has no interest in being the lady-wife of a Province Lord, and all that entails. I believe she has no interest in being married at all. I am…’ he hesitated; he had not planned on sharing this piece of information, but perhaps it was better to be out with it. ‘I also know that I am not the only person she is in love with. But the other is a lady, so there is no doubt as to the child’s paternity.’

This evoked another minute or so of silence. Alton risked inspecting his parents’ expressions. His mother’s was sober, thoughtful; she met his eyes quickly, as though she could see right into his heart, and he looked away quickly. His father was staring at his desk, a frown etched into his face, but no longer emanating the cold fury of earlier.

Eventually, Lord D’Yer broke the silence.

‘I have no objection to giving the young lady what she wants. But I am not proud of this situation, Alton. And I am extremely disappointed by your behaviour. I –’ He stopped himself, his nostrils flaring, and seemed to struggle with himself before he continued. ‘I do not want to know if this affair continues. I expect the same to be true of every other member of the nobility; you are not to advertise the situation, on the contrary, I expect you to treat it with the embarrassment and discretion it deserves.’

Alton lowered his head. He felt his blood thundering in his ears. Estral was not an embarrassment. She was not something he was ashamed of. But how could he express that to his father?

‘Father,’ he started, ‘I am… I am not ashamed of my relationship with Estral. I will, of course, keep the matter private. But,’ he looked up and met his father’s eyes. ‘I will not treat her as an embarrassment of any kind. Love is not a stain on one’s character.’

His father didn’t reply. They stared at each other for a few seconds longer, and then the older man looked away.

‘Go, I need time to think,’ he said wearily. ‘Reply to Miss Estral, inform her that we will have the papers she has requested. I’ll have them drawn up tomorrow.’

Alton stood, inclined his head politely, and then left, feeling as though his bones were rubbery and unsteady.


	10. Mirwell Colours

‘What are you going to do?’ Karigan asked softly.

She and Zachary were walking through the gardens at dusk, Captain Mapstone and Karigan’s father trailing behind them a little way and talking animatedly about something Karigan had lost track of. She was too busy watching Zachary’s expression.

He’d spent the better part of the week wrapped in investigation of the attack in the stables. Lord Barrett had vanished from the keep, and a small party had been sent to track him down, but so far there had been no sign. Lord Mirwell claimed ignorance of Lord Barrett’s actions – at least, the detail of them. He had confessed he was aware Barrett had planned to act to put Karigan off the marriage, but insisted he had not expected it to be of any illegal nature.

The Lord-Governors were divided, and not cleanly – they seemed to shift positions on the topic daily, and were unwilling to commit to one course of action over the other.

Zachary sighed.

‘I don’t… no, that’s not true. I do know. We’ve settled on a course of action,’ he said.

Karigan raised her eyebrows.

‘That’s good,’ she said cautiously.

Zachary gave a grim smile.

‘Well, when I say _we_ , I mean myself and the counsellors,’ he said. ‘It remains to be seen if the lord-governors will be on board.’

Karigan nodded to herself, and the two of them walked on for a few minutes in comfortable silence. She wanted to put a hand on his shoulder and wondered if it was entirely appropriate; then she caught herself counting the days until she no longer had to worry about that, and forced herself to change the subject.

‘Will Lord Emry and Lord Leonar be staying long after the wedding?’ she asked.

The frustration in Zachary’s expression faded away, and his smile this time was much more genuine.

‘Not too long, I think,’ he said. ‘Leonar will stay for a week or two and then head back home, he has a province to run. Emry will probably linger a while longer as his journey is that much slower. Though of course,’ he said, suddenly sounding worried, ‘we don’t have to spend lots of time with them. I mean, we can. But I don’t want you to feel obliged.’

Karigan looped her arm into his, feeling the now-familiar warmth of interest as she did so.

‘I don’t,’ she said simply. ‘I like them both; I like your family. And I like how you are around them. You… open up, a little. They make you happy.’

Zachary gave a short, grateful laugh.

‘They do,’ he said quietly. ‘When I was sent to be lord-governor in Hillander… well, I was never particularly close to my father, and Amilton and I hated each other. I was very… shy, I suppose. Nervous. Lonely.’ He shrugged without self-pity. ‘And worried that I would make a terrible mess of the job. Emry and Leonar puzzled me out quickly, and took me under their wing. I’m a lot closer to them than I ever was to my immediate family, though these days I rarely see them.’

Karigan nodded again, and Zachary glanced briefly over his shoulder as though to check that the captain and Stevic were still out of earshot.

‘Though I do look forward to spending some time as just the two of us,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘With no one else to worry about.’

Karigan made herself keep eye contact with him, even though she wanted to blush and hide her expression.

‘I look forward to that too,’ she said softly.

~

_My dearest Estral,_

_I have spoken to my father. As anticipated he was… less than pleased by my behaviour, but he will grant your request. And you know I will always respect your wishes._

_I will understand if you feel otherwise, and it is ultimately your decision, but I hope you will tell me when the child is born so that I can come and visit? I know you do not wish me to be a father, but perhaps I could be a sort of… friendly uncle? And I want to assure you that regardless of the legal obligations (which of course I will not have after everything is signed) you can always come to me for help and support should you need it. The child may not be mine in name, but I love you, and I will love them, in whatever way I may._

_I hope your health continues to be good; please don’t hesitate to ask for anything you may need or want. My father asks me to convey that we will send on the official documentation in the next few days by courier. We are remaining Sacor City for now in anticipation of the wedding. I assume Karigan’s invited you – I hope to be able to see you then._

_Yours, forever,_

_Alton_

~

The doors opened. Mirwell re-entered, and took his place in the centre of the floor. The hall was already quiet, and became absolutely silent as King Zachary rose to give judgement. He began by summarising the reasons for the charges, and listing those who had spoken as witnesses.

Then he turned his attention to Mirwell directly, who was very pale. Karigan could see that the tips of his fingers were trembling slightly, and to her surprise she felt a little sorry for him. She frowned, and decided to think about that later.

Zachary considered the man in front of him for a few moments before speaking.

‘Lord Timas Mirwell, you stand accused of acting against the throne. That is, at its greatest, high treason. Your defence has been ignorance. And I would like to believe that is the case. However, I must take into account the seriousness of the situation, and take steps to ensure that no such event occurs again.’

He took another moment of consideration. Then he nodded once to himself, and spoke again.

‘The Mirwell Militia will be fully and permanently disbanded, and its members given other positions. Lord Barrett stands guilty of high treason, and if located he faces death. Lord Mirwell, you have demonstrated, at minimum, a disturbing level of carelessness and irresponsibility, and one which is completely inappropriate to your rank and position as a Province Lord. However… you are yet a young man. And I have no desire to lose the house of Mirwell entirely.’

Lord Mirwell’s trembling was much more visible now. He was holding himself upright as though it caused him pain.

‘I therefore will _not_ revoke your title. Instead, it will be held, with all your properties and associated rights, in abeyance. A senior member of the nobility will be appointed by this council to act as an overseer of you and your province; they will have the power to overrule you, and they will be reporting directly to myself. This arrangement will remain in place until we are confident that you are demonstrating a drastic and consistent improvement in your duties, at which point your title, properties and associated rights will be restored to you.’

Karigan breathed out, glancing briefly around the room. Everyone looked extremely serious, and some of the Province Lords were giving minute nods of agreement. Zachary’s tone was more serious than she’d ever heard it.

‘And Lord Mirwell? A final note.’ Zachary waited until Mirwell met his eyes. ‘I want to make this extremely clear. If a similar event is to occur again, whether due to your malice _or_ your appalling lack of care, you will lose both your title and your head. Am I understood?’

Lord Mirwell paled even further, and then gave a bow.

‘Perfectly, your majesty,’ he murmured.

Zachary considered him a moment more, then raised his head.

‘This judgement is final; the trial is concluded. Lord Mirwell, you are dismissed back to your chambers. All present may also consider themselves dismissed. The council will reconvene tomorrow morning to discuss the matter of the overseer’s appointment. Thank you all for your time, and your wisdom.’

With that, Zachary turned and left the hall, his councillors behind him. The rest of the hall seemed to come to life as he did so.

Karigan stood and followed her father out quietly, not wanting to linger. They didn’t talk until they got back to her family’s quarters. Karigan felt like the world had suddenly turned in a different direction; she kept seeing Mirwell’s face, suddenly confronted with the realisation that the ground beneath him was no longer solid, that his title meant nothing if he did not live up to it. She supposed she could have been gleeful, or smug. But really, she just felt rather sorry for him. Sorry that he hadn’t learnt better in time. Perhaps he would change, now.

~

‘Karigan!’

‘Estral!’ Karigan only had a moment to greet her friend before Estral had her in a tight embrace.

‘It’s so good to see you! And, uh, good afternoon Lord Fiori,’ she added, spotting Estral’s father standing a little way behind her.

‘Karigan,’ he said in greeting.

‘Sorry we’re so late – it’s not long now! But I’ve been travelling a bit slowly, and I wanted to wait for father to return.’ Estral pulled away from her and looked her up and down, grinning. ‘You look well – engagement to the king suits you.’

Karigan made a mildly affronted noise, but couldn’t avoid smiling.

‘And what about you?’ she asked pointedly, her eyes flicking down to Estral’s stomach and back up. Estral rolled her eyes.

‘Truly, your subtlety knows no bounds,’ she said dryly. ‘But I’m doing well. Morning sickness is awful, but it’s not been as bad this week.’ She pulled a face.

Karigan winced sympathetically. Estral had written to her about her pregnancy when she had found out, and Karigan had been hard-pressed to resist the urge to talk to Alton about it. But she agreed with Estral – it was best that Alton settle things with his family in his own way.

‘How’s everyone here?’ Estral said, linking arms with Karigan and walking with her down the corridor. Lord Fiori joined them on Estral’s other side.

‘Now who’s being subtle?’ Karigan said wryly. ‘But _everyone_ is well, though I haven’t seen the particular _everyone_ that you’re thinking of for a day or so. People keep arriving. Every time I think the keep can’t possible hold any more people, they move someone else in.’

‘And they all want to talk to the queen-to-be?’ Estral said. Karigan nodded. She was more or less used to it now, but she was very much looking forward to the respite that would come when the excitement around the wedding died down and people left for their own homes.

She’d be married then, and living in the royal quarters.

‘…really looking forward to it.’ Karigan caught the tail end of Estral’s ramble without its context, and looked at her friend sheepishly. Estral just laughed.

‘Come on, if you’ve got a few minutes – come up to our quarters and tell me _everything._ ’


	11. Coronation

It was the day before the wedding. Karigan had come up to the highest point of the castle, very early in the morning. No training today; no training for the next five days. The next time she went down to the practice fields, she’d be queen. Not that she expected that to change anything for Drent. But still. It would feel different to her.

She wondered how long it would be before it became normal. Before she stopped being surprised by people bowing, before she realised that when people said ‘my lady’ they were talking to her.

Looking out across the countryside, she could see the dark sweep of the Green Cloak. Somewhere out there, off to the west, everything had changed. On the road to Corsa, she’d become a Green Rider. And now she was about to become queen.

She heard the door to the tower-top open, and then close. She didn’t look around, but smiled out at the view.

‘Oh dear. This is probably very inappropriate.’

Zachary’s voice was soft, and teasing; though there was an edge of nervousness in it. He was still a little uncertain around her – still learning where the limits were. She supposed she was the same with him.

‘Inappropriate?’ she replied without turning, even though she knew exactly what he had meant.

‘Well. The soon-to-be-weds, in an isolated part of the keep. Alone and un-chaperoned.’

From anyone else, that would have sounded like a suggestion; flirtation. But from Zachary it just made light of everyone else’s paranoia. It suggested not risk and excitement, but trust and calm.

He came to stand beside her, looking out across the city. There was about a foot of distance between them. They didn’t seem to need to say anything. After several long, peaceful minutes, Karigan gave him a polite bow – the expression in his eyes was torn between amusement and anticipation, and she caught her breath – and then slipped away down the tower steps, back to the last normal day.

~

The dress was dark blue, but far from demure. Embroidery wove like branches and blossomed across the bodice, black and silver and green and purple. The skirts were full and floor-length, equally blue but with glittering silver threads that caught the light like stars. And underneath, designed only to be visible when she spun and the skirts flared, was a layer of sheer silver material.

Karigan allowed Lia to help her dress in very faint disbelief. This was it. After today she would be married. A queen. A married queen. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing; every now and then the bizarreness of the situation caught up with her and she felt as though surely, surely she was inventing this, surely at any moment someone or something would jolt her out of the daydream… but nothing did. The embroidery on the sleeves was intricate and beautiful, and must have taken hours. The shoes, when Lia helped her step into them, were a surprise: not nearly as awkward or difficult to walk in as normal formalwear. Karigan took one off again to inspect it – soft leather dyed the same blue as the dress, made to hold her feet and ankles well while she danced without looking unattractive. She smiled. Compromises, Zachary had said. There were always compromises.

Her hair was down and loose – in anticipation of being crowned. She took a deep breath and breathed it out slowly. Lia, with the help of Darian and her assistant (who had arrived full of smiles and very understanding of Karigan’s air of distraction) wove tiny silver clasps into her hair at intervals. She wore no jewellery; neither would Zachary, who would also be bareheaded when they married. Kingship was separate from marriage, Sperren had said. Though he would always be her king and rule over her in matters of state, in private matters as husband and wife they were considered entirely equal.

There were still more fussings, and then Darian and her assistant left; and then, finally, Lia did, slipping out with a smile as she went to take her place in the courtyard where the servants’ celebrations would occur. The door closed behind her, and all was silent and still.

Karigan felt as though the world had spun to a halt. As though she would stay here, paused in one indrawn breath, the sky outside never changing, no one ever moving again because what was about to happen next was impossible –

The wind swung the open window in and then out again.

Karigan breathed out.

There was a knock on the door.

‘Kari?’ came her father’s voice. ‘It’s time.’

~

Zachary forced himself to stay still while his attendant Sethan fussed over his clothes, straightening buttons and picking off probably-imaginary specks of dust. Eventually, there appeared to be nothing more to pick at. He was wearing the traditional black and silver of Hillander clan. He wondered absently about the colour of Karigan’s dress; he had avoided asking her questions on the subject, not out of some superstition of bad luck but simply because he knew that it was the only thing some people wanted to talk to her about. Clan colours, probably.

‘Rider Sir G’ladheon is making her way up the corridor, sire.’ The servant spoke respectfully but there was a hint of excitement in his voice. The day’s mood had caught everyone, it seemed. Zachary straightened himself up a little more, hoped he did not look as nervous as he felt; and then the door opened.

Karigan looked stunning. Of course he frequently got a little lost when thinking about her and she had always looked beautiful, but today every part of that beauty was emphasised. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. It had always been real – but now it seemed realer than it ever had. He cleared his throat.

‘Karigan, you look wonderful,’ he said. She gave him a small smile in return, part flattered, part amused at his reaction.

They stood there in silence; Zachary couldn’t think of anything to say. This seemed to be bigger than words. Finally, a page slipped in through the door and nodded to the Moon Priest, who turned to Zachary and Karigan.

‘We are ready to begin,’ he said.

~

The doors to the hall opened. The Moon Priest led the way, with Karigan and Zachary behind him. Each of them led several members of their family: Karigan, her father and her aunts; Zachary, Lord Emry followed by Lord Leonar and his wife and children.

When they reached the front, the families peeled away into the first row. Karigan and Zachary took their places, one step up onto the two-step dais, facing each other. At a gesture from the Moon Priest, they took hands.

‘Today we will join Zachary Hillander with Karigan G’ladheon together in the oldest and truest of rites. After this ceremony, they will be husband and wife. Do any here object to this union?’

Silence. Karigan wondered exactly what you were supposed to do if someone did object at that point. There was probably some sort of formal system for it, but she didn’t know what it was. But it didn’t matter; no one had objected; and now the Moon-Priest was reaching for the garland and wrapping it around their clasped hands.

‘Zachary, Karigan, please speak together the vows as you have prepared.’

Karigan met Zachary’s eyes. He spoke first.

‘I, Zachary Hillander, willingly join in marriage with you, Karigan G’ladheon.’

She felt a smile begin to grow on her face as she replied.

‘I, Karigan G’ladheon, willingly join in marriage with you, Zachary Hillander.’

She could see it in his expression too; joy, and wonder at the impossible thing they were doing.

‘I do so earnestly, truthfully, and in full understanding of the gravity of my vow,’ he said solemnly.

‘I do so earnestly, truthfully, and in full understanding of the gravity of my vow.’ Karigan had felt relieved when she’d been told that her words were his repeated back, but now she felt the urge to jump ahead of him, to gush every promise out to him. She held herself in check.

‘I will treat you as my equal in all things; I will respect you, and I will protect you as I would myself.’

She couldn’t look away from his expression as she returned the words to him.

‘I will treat you as my equal in all things; I will respect you, and I will protect you as I would myself.’ That promise of protection, echoing the vow of a Green Rider, but this time returned to her. Equals.

‘I will hold myself faithful to you, and love you with all my heart, through all the joys and struggles of our life together.’

‘I will hold myself faithful to you, and love you with all my heart, through all the joys and struggles of our life together.’ She very nearly stumbled on the last few words, still in awe of what they were doing, and she thought she saw a hint of laughter in his eyes.

‘This I vow before witnesses, including my kin and yours, and seal with a kiss,’ he said, almost softly.

‘This I vow before witnesses, including my kin and yours,’ Karigan replied, ‘and seal with a kiss.’

There was a moment’s pause, and then they both leaned into each other at the same time. She felt Zachary’s lips on hers and almost, _almost_ she broke their hands’ clasp to pull him into her arms but she clung to her restraint. The kiss lasted a few seconds; she wanted it to be endless. And then they were separated again, and Zachary’s ears were pink, and she could feel her own blush rising through her cheeks; she felt like she’d never stop smiling. But it wasn’t over yet. Husband and wife they were now; the final part was her coronation.

The garland wrapped around their hands was taken away by the Moon Priest – Karigan knew it would be dried and kept a certain way as a symbol of their marriage, but she was too busy concentrating on the next part of the ceremony to pay it any attention. Zachary bent his head and kissed her hand briefly, and then they let their hands part. He took a step up onto the higher part of the dais, standing on the same level as the thrones. She turned to face him, her back to their audiences. Without moving her head, she watched the Moon Priest bring the crown of the Queen Consort to Zachary on a black velvet cushion. It glittered silver and black in the light of the hall.

Zachary met her eyes, and she knelt on the cushion that had been placed there for that purpose.

‘Do you, Karigan G’ladheon, Daughter of the G’ladheon Clan, Green Rider, Honorary Black Shield and Knight of the Realm, accept the responsibilities and duties that are accorded to the role of Queen Consort of Sacoridia?’

‘I do.’

‘Do you swear loyalty to Sacoridia, to its Monarch and Peoples, and to the values for which it stands?’

‘I do.’

‘Do you promise to respect the line of inheritance, the value of law, and the significance of each person’s rights and responsibilities?’

‘I do.’

‘And do you enter into this oath in full understanding of its implications, its requirements, and its consequences?’

‘I enter into this oath in full understanding and acceptance.’

‘Then by the right of the Hillander throne and the laws of Sacoridia,’ he said, turning to lift the crown from its cushion before turning back to her, ‘I declare you Queen-Consort Karigan G’ladheon Hillander.’

Very carefully, he set the heavy crown on her head. The weight of it was slightly more than she had expected; she adjusted her shoulders and neck as Darian had taught her, and flicked her eyes up to Zachary as soon as she had it settled.

He reached forward and took her hand, assisting her to stand; an activity that, between the long dress and the heavy crown, required considerable concentration. A page took the cushion away, and she stepped up to stand on the dais beside Zachary, her right hand in his left, looking out across the crowded hall.

There was already movement. The twelve Lords and Ladies of the Provinces were forming into a line in front of the dais, each in their ceremonial best. She wasn’t sure what her expression was; she pushed a little more of a smile into it, always conscious of the weight of metal on her head.

Hillander, D’Yer, L’Petrie, Wayman, Coutre, Bairdly, Arey, Penburn, Adolind, D’lvary, Oldbury, and Mirwell. From left to right, in the order that they had committed to the Hillander throne. Following Lord Leonar’s cue, they went down onto one knee.

Zachary spoke from beside Karigan.

‘Do the Lords and Ladies of the Provinces swear their continued allegiance to the Hillander throne?’ He asked the question formally, but calmly. The renewing was traditional at the coronation of a consort.

‘On behalf of Hillander Province, I swear continued allegiance to the Hillander throne.’

‘On behalf of D’Yer Province, I swear continued allegiance to the Hillander throne.’

The vows continued. Karigan watched each Lord or Lady as they spoke. When Lord Coutre gave his, his eyes flickered to her in something like approval. She wondered if she really did look the part, standing there in all her regalia.

‘On behalf of Mirwell Province, I swear continued allegiance to the Hillander throne.’

There, it was done. The twelve lords and ladies stood, and just behind them Karigan could see her father standing there with her aunts, his face awash with emotion – pride, joy, awe. She looked out at the assembled nobility behind them, and saw the ranks of green at the very back – the Green Rider Corps. They must have filed in just after her.

‘My lords and ladies of Sacoridia,’ Zachary announced. ‘Queen Karigan!’

A cheer filled the hall. Zachary turned his head to her and smiled. She was already smiling back.

‘Shall we?’ he asked, moving his arm so that she could lean on it slightly.

They made their way down the steps, and then down the avenue of people, all applauding, all cheering – Karigan saw her father and aunts again, all glowing – then Captain Mapstone, grinning wider than she’d ever seen – Estora caught her eye and beamed – Estral and her father waving as they cheered – and then the mass of green – smiling faces –

Stepping out into the cooler air of the corridor, Karigan felt oddly light. Zachary’s hand was still clasping hers. She looked at him, in profile as he looked ahead down the corridor. The desire to place her hands on his face, to kiss his lips, to break the boundaries that had always been set upon them and to do it without a care in the world…

They reached the doors to the balcony in a few brief minutes, and Karigan broke her gaze from him as they stepped out into the bright sunlight. Zachary led her to the railing and the cheering washed over her; she looked down, and saw the courtyard filled with servants, guards, and, pouring in at the back, a patch of Rider-green. They must have run from the throne room to make it there in time.

Zachary took a step closer to her, and she looked up to see his querying expression. Slowly, allowing her time to object, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to his side. She slipped her arm around his waist in return, and leaned into his embrace.

‘We did it,’ she said softly. She could hear the awe in his voice as he replied.

‘We did.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for part two! Part three is now posting once every two weeks. Thank you for all of your wonderful support so far, folks!
> 
> H


End file.
